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    • F. Falmer Browne was as impressed with Addy’s barn and selection of transportation impedimenta, including the draught animals who pulled the things as he was with Addy herself.   “Splendid! Splendid!” was all he could say as he peered about the place with a quick and intelligent eye. “A veritable Aladdin’s Cave!”   "Wagon's there," she nodded, "an' once ya check that over, I'll introduce ya to th' horses.  Ya got a saddle mount'a yer own?"  If he didn't have a horse, she could just bring Arabesque, the mare was accustomed to being ponied behind wagons.   The slightly eccentric older gentleman approached the vehicle in question, hands clasped behind his back, head bent forward slightly, in a pose of complete and curious absorption – as if he was seeing, for the fist time, some fabulous beast of lore. He ducked down, quite lithely for his age, and came up again smiling broadly at Addy, a look of supreme satisfaction on his face at the condition of Miss Chappel’s springs.   “May I?” he asked, indicating that he would like to climb up onto the land ship.   Whilst happily bouncing there, he answered her question about the horses. “Yes, I would like you to take care of all the arrangements around horses, equipment, even hiring another hand if you think it meet, Miss Chappel. I leave all in your hands, no expense spared.”   He was clearly very pleased with the bounce on the wagon as well that of its driver.   “You know, I have many times observed you, reins in hand, piloting this very vehicle. If it is not too impertinent of me, may I ask from whence you obtained these skills, so unusual in an attractive young lady?” the old masher asked.  
    • "Yes, Miss Clara."  Grinning, Weedy handed her the bread.  She was at that awkward age for a boy, that she was too old to refer to by her given name, but really wasn't so old as to be a 'Ma'am'!   "Miz Addy sent some bread," he explained, holding out the package, then telling Clara what he'd told Wyatt.  "She got it from the Lickskillet, so she didn't cook it."  He grinned.  "She makes black bread!  And then the whole room smells burnt for a week!"  It was safe to say that, since she wasn't here!   @Wayfarer
    • As unorthodox as she was, Addy wasn't adverse to having her chair held, nor a door opened, and to that end she gave Mr. Browne a chance to open the saloon doors for her.  But the big doors to the front of the barn were something else, and she took it on herself to push one of the huge pair aside, flooding the open breezeway with light and eliciting eager nickers from the barn's occupants.   "Wagon's there," she nodded, "an' once ya check that over, I'll introduce ya to th' horses.  Ya got a saddle mount'a yer own?"  If he didn't have a horse, she could just bring Arabesque, the mare was accustomed to being ponied behind wagons.   @Javia
    • "Marshal Guyer?  Of course."  Emeline smiled as she poured coffee.  "I guess that means you can have whatever you'd like."  While it didn't happen often, it wasn't unheard of that someone was sent over from the jail for a meal, and they usually took full advantage, ordering a steak and potatoes, then pie.  She didn't mind, she was always paid.   "Oh and say.....could I have  Little Miss Pigtails wait on me? I'd like ta talk to her?"   "Oh, I'm sorry, there's no one here by that name."  Emeline smiled sweetly, really wanting to pour hot coffee in the boy's lap!  "So, what can I get for you?"  Mister No Manners, she added silently in her head.   @Wayfarer  
    • She stopped, a rider was coming, it only took a moment to see that it was her Pa, she lowered the Henry. That was a normal reaction for her to begin to shoulder the weapon. A woman on her own should take no chances.   She was anxious to hear all about Kalispell and the people he had met while he was there. It would be like him to stock up on goods while he was there, unless there was a problem with his getting paid, which happened time to time. Though she was not one to wear anything fancy, she did like to know about what the women he saw were wearing. She had trained him to notice.   He came into the yard with the pack horse in tow, obviously with a load of groceries. He paused a moment, as he usually always did before dismounting.   "Dang McClellan, ain't near a s comfortable as it once was." He complained as he usually did. "Might have ta get me one of them modern high backs. Might make this old man feel a sight better."   "I'll believe it when I see it, Amos Conroy." She had heard that one before.   "Lotsa calico, seen lotsa calico, but did see a couple ladies in their finery, Not like we saw in Denver, but purty high-falutin just the same." He reported.   "Thanks Pa." She smiled as she spoke.   "Saved the best fer last. Never guess who I run onto in town." He waited, but she didn't take the bait. He led the horses to the corral where he tied them.  Alice began unpacking the supplies, each taking part of them and starting for the house. At what they call the Municipal Bulidin' sittin' in his office was the town Marshal." He paused, she glared at him. "Speed Guyer, badge an' all." Still she said nothing but went about what she was doing.  "You remember Captain Guyer?"   "Thought you'd like to know." He said to her silence.
Clara Redmond

Clara Has a Caller

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“You won’t believe it, but there’s a great city down there, with mermaids and seahorses and Old Neptune himself sitting on his throne, you should come and see it!

 

"Alright, so now you are just being foolish," she scoffed as she stopped with her undressing, both hands about ready to pull down her other stocking.

 

As he rubbed the water from his eyes and was rewarded with a sight that made his heart skip a beat. In an age when a glimpse of a lady’s ankle was something to write home about, the vision of Clara with one leg bare and another about to see the light of day was enough to leave him open mouthed in awe. A small wave made him shut it again quickly.

 

“Were you about to come in and rescue me?” he asked, amazed. He had been under quite a lung-bursting while, he supposed, maybe she had thought the worst. It was quite flattering that she was willing to come in after him. “Because I can drown again, if you like!” he offered helpfully.

 

“I did see something under there.” He disclosed, regretting his earlier frivolity, lest she not believe him now.

 

“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old.” He said. “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up.” He was determined to go back down, as soon as he caught his breath.

 

“Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.

Edited by Javia (see edit history)
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“Were you about to come in and rescue me?” he suddenly asked.

 

"Well..." the normally eloquent Clara was once more at a loss for words when around this boy. Why was that anyhow?

 

 “Because I can drown again, if you like!” he added, rather flippantly in her opinion.

 

"Maybe I should come out there and drown you for real?" she decided she could come back with a snappy retort.

 

“I did see something under there," he now announced.

 

"Oh sure you did, Jacob. What this time? Perhaps a whale...even Moby Dick?" she flashed him a dubious look, "I mean they still have not found him, you know?"

 

See, she too could be funny, she thought mostly to convince herself.

 

“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old,”  he declared and he seemed to be sincere, “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up.”

 

Why had she not ever noticed that? Though, to be fair, she never had really attempted to feel around down at the lake bottom, what would have been the point? To fill her hands with muck? But..... was there really something down there? A mystery and right in her own backyard as it were? Now who didn't love a mystery?

Her brother would have let out of whoop of excitement and stripped off his clothes so fast it would have made one's head spin then dove on out there.

 

But that was the thing - she was not Wyatt. She was a girl....well a young woman to be precise and was not supposed to, by all that was proper, be cavorting about naked in front of a boy.  And - he might just be saying this in an sneaky attempt to see her sans modesty!

 

Her choice in this matter should be so obvious and easy. But it was not. Why was this so hard?

 

Then it was Jacob again goading her on, tempting her.

 

“Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.

 

She had to make a decision, there and now. Was she the demure girl who sat in the Sunday church pew and was obedient to God's will? Or was she the curious girl who now recalled Emeline's words about taking a chance with a boy and seeing if it meant something for real or at least finding out if it did not? Her breath came out then in an audible sigh.

 

"Very well then but you better not be lying to me, Jacob, or I will never believe you again!" she told him forcefully, "Give me a minute to take ...this ....all off."

 

Now fully committed, and fearful she had just made the decision which would condemn her to hell when her judgement day came, Clara pulled off the second stocking then stood up and began to rather shakily unbutton her dress. It only took but a few seconds but seemed to take forever to the now impatient girl. Once that garment was shed and folded in half then laid primly down upon the ground, it was now down to the undergarments. And she was not even wearing anything fancy as this was everyday home life.

 

The bloomers were removed then followed by a thin shift, she had thicker ones reserved for winter months of course, and then it was time for the corset. It was then that she paused, trying to build up enough courage to take this next truly revealing step. It was both nerve wracking and yet, something about it was intensely exciting?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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"Maybe I should come out there and drown you for real?" she decided she could come back with a snappy retort.

 

“I deserve it! Come and get me!” came the equally snappy reply. Despite her normally quite, well, stern demeanour, he found that he was able to be a little cheeky with Clara and get away with it. He didn’t question this odd power, he just thanked the Lord for it. 

 

“I did see something under there," he now announced. 

 

"Oh sure you did, Jacob. What this time? Perhaps a whale...even Moby Dick?" she flashed him a dubious look, "I mean they still have not found him, you know?" 

 

The laugh that emitted from Jacob at this was genuine. It wasn’t that Clara’s jokes were rib-ticklingly funny, it was more the dry way she delivered them, like a slightly grumpy school marm, tersely informing the class of some dour facts.

 

“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old,”  he declared and he seemed to be sincere, “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up. Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.

 

"Very well then but you better not be lying to me, Jacob, or I will never believe you again!" she told him forcefully, "Give me a minute to take ...this ....all off."

 

ALL... OFF!!??

 

He quite literally reached under the water and pinched himself. He had suffered (enjoyed?) this kind of dream before. They always used to come to a climax with him waking up in bed in an uncomfortable and sticky mess. Luckily those kind of dreams had stopped a couple of years ago, he remembered, and the pain of the pinch told him that this was actually real: Clara Redmond was taking off every stitch of her toggery right in front of him!

 

He managed a weak and dry throated “All right.” Then after that, he kept his mouth shut: even offering to gallantly turn around could somehow jinx this magical happening, he thought, as he saw Clara reach down to the last remnants of her modesty. He was breathing harder now than when he had just come up from his underwater dive.

 

Oddly, though, there was nothing happening to him, down below. As he goggled at the beautiful young woman on the bank, he didn’t know if that was cause for celebration or not. Like every young man, he had to worry that when, or if, the great moment came, he might not be ‘up to it’. Not that he’d had that problem when he was sparking with Joanna Coltrane, and she was as plain as Clara was pretty, poor girl, so he tried to rest easy and just enjoy the show.

 

Probably just the affects of the cold water, he ruminated.

 

Edited by Javia (see edit history)

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As she hesitated, Clara glanced down into the water. Jacob was treading water and just staring. She could hardly be surprised. Plus he probably was well aware of what was coming next. Her trembling fingers went to the corset front and she began to unbutton, there were also cords in the back to help a woman pull the already constrictive garment tighter and tighter for that hourglass frame so desired in society. She however never wore it tight, in the first place she was flat chested so so much for the top part of the so called hourglass.

 

Jacob was no doubt in for a big disappointment she berated herself as the buttons were finished and now she could take it off completely. The garment joined the pile of already discarded wardrobe. A part of her screamed to cover her breasts then with her hands but then how would she finish the last of this long process plus was she going to move about and even swim like that? No impossible. One way or the other he was going to have an eyeful . Again she looked down right at him both embarrassed and yet hopeful.

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Had Moby Dick indeed surfaced in the lake at that very moment and swallowed Jacob whole, he could have died happy, or at least lived happy in the belly of the beast, like Jonah, content to survive on the memory of that one fantastically sublime moment. Miss Clara Anne Redmond, the somewhat stern, serious and schoolmarmly young lady of Kalispell, Montana, stood naked and a little red cheeked before him and, rather thrillingly, anyone in the world who happened to be passing.

 

He had seen too few naked ladies in his young life to know how her figure compared to others, but to him she was perfect: the beauty of her bodily form in perfect balance with that of her little round face. Against the prevailing fashions of the time, she might seem thin, with a lack of bust and ‘good child-bearing hips’ but he liked, nay, loved her petite breasts and the slight but attractive bulge of her bottom. Classical statues of Aphrodite and Juno that he had gazed lustfully on in books were all denuded and bare in the area that his eyes had been naturally drawn to, but Clara was possessed of a natural and somehow welcoming looking tuft of brown hair that matched that on her head (as well it might!) At this distance he couldn’t see her scar, nor was he looking for it, he was just in dumbstruck awe at the entirety of her charms.

 

He was glad when she entered the water: for a start, that meant that she was coming nearer to him, but also, to have gazed on her completely naked body any longer would have probably driven him mad, as those who gazed too long upon the beauty of the God Hermes in ancient days were supposed to have been driven insane.

 

As she swam toward him, and a neat little stroke she possessed indeed, he knew that he had to say something. He didn’t want to compliment the beauty of her body directly, she might not want that kind of attention drawing to the stark nudity she had displayed in front of him, that nudity which now shimmered playfully beneath the water. He caught sight, as she righted herself in the crystal clear water of the lake, of the mark above her right nipple that the Reb had mentioned.

 

“I’m disappointed” he said, paddling gently toward her and nodding toward her pert breasts, made goosepimply and firm by the cold of the water “I can hardly see that scar, Arabella made out it was so big you could put it on display in a circus.” He said, peering with a frown and narrowed eyes, like he was trying to make out a pimple on an ant.

 

In fact, that was a little white lie, the scar was noticeable. Though it could never mar her beauty in his eyes, and in fact mystically added to it, you could tell that it was a souvenir of a wound that had been deep, painful and life threatening. Though it was fully healed, he somehow wanted to kiss it better. He glanced from her brown, perfectly formed nipples to her brown, perfectly formed eyes.

 

"Can you swim under water?" he asked prosaically, somehow ameliorating the fact that they were two young people of opposite sexes, naked and within a couple of feet of each other.

 

Edited by Javia (see edit history)
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Once she was half naked, it was a simple matter to slip out of the final petticoat and not bothering this time for proper folding she just left everything in a heap in her haste to get into the water and be less exposed. A few quick steps and she was at the waters edge and eased on in. Oh lordy, it was cold! She had not counted it being that cold. Little late now.

 

By the time she stopped a few feet short of him, she was actually having to swim and that covered her except for head and shoulders, mostly. There he was, still treading water and eyes fixed on her. But his very first words.....

 

“I’m disappointed.”

 

The look on her face and in her eyes was a mix of hurt and shock. She knew it! She had disappointed him, just like she worried she would. If she could have suddenly disappeared and then woke up in her bed realizing it was all just a dream, a good one for awhile but in the end a nightmare, she would have.

 

But there was more, “I can hardly see that scar, Arabella made out it was so big you could put it on display in a circus.”

 

Oh, so that was it?

 

"She never even saw me undressed," she snapped, leave it to that girl to say something so cruel. What was wrong with her? As for Clara, she was rapidly losing whatever confidence, or had it been hope, she had built up to even attempt this.

 

"Can you swim under water?" he asked .

 

"I do not make a habit of it, but yes, of course I can," she replied.

 

She was in it now, she might as well carry it thru.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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"She never even saw me undressed," she snapped, leave it to that girl to say something so cruel. What was wrong with her? As for Clara, she was rapidly losing whatever confidence, or had it been hope, she had built up to even attempt this.

 

“Then she was unlucky!” blurted Jacob. “You’re beautiful!”

 

He kept treading water. He had made a mistake, he felt. When she had chided him for complimenting her overmuch, he had stupidly believed she was serious. She looked sort of crestfallen. It baffled him that a goddess like Clara could have any self-doubt. She had to hear this.

 

“Listen, Clara Anne Redmond,  I’ve got a book at home, it’s got pictures in it of some of the statues the old Greeks and Romans made of their goddesses…” some water went in his mouth and he had to spit it out. “Believe me Clara, they must’ve picked the most beautiful women of their time to serve as their models: but not one of them has as lovely a face or … I don’t mind saying it … or body as you!”

 

 He held out his hand.

 

"Can you swim under water?" he asked.

 

"I do not make a habit of it, but yes, of course I can," she replied. 

 

“Good!” he said decidedly “Now I’ll be Neptune and you’ll be Amphitrite, she was a water nymph who was nearly as pretty as you, and they had a high old time in his underwater kingdom, and that’s where we’re going to visit now!” he realised that he was babbling, Arabella style, but he didn’t care, because it gave him scope to give her the praise she deserved.

 

“Now, take a deep breath and come on!” he virtually ordered her.

 

The water was clean and fresh and if you forced yourself to open your eyes, you could see down to the strangely dusty looking lake-bed. You could also see each other’s naked bodies, paler looking that usual, strangely shaped in their frog-like swimming motion, and with the shadows of the ripples above caressing them with vague surreal lines. Cheeks bulging, Jacob pointed with a jabbing motion to where he’d seen the small wreck. Wreck! It sounded like something from a Pirate yarn in his head.

 

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"Then she was unlucky!” blurted Jacob. “You’re beautiful!”

 

Those words took some of the shock away of his first ones to her in the water, so perhaps he had not been initially referring to her afterall. Her ebbing and flowing confidence once more flowed.

 

"Well, I...." yet again more loss for words, so not like Clara.

 

“Listen, Clara Anne Redmond,  I’ve got a book at home, it’s got pictures in it of some of the statues the old Greeks and Romans made of their goddesses…” some water went in his mouth and he had to spit it out. “Believe me Clara, they must’ve picked the most beautiful women of their time to serve as their models: but not one of them has as lovely a face or … I don’t mind saying it … or body as you!”

 

The young lady swallowed, now he was gushing about her in such an over the top fashion. It was like music to her ears but....hard to believe it was genuine.  Although she wanted it to be. Again it came down to trusting Jacob and , much as she truly liked this boy, trust still was not an easy thing for Clara to give. Still she imagined she must be blushing right about then.

 

"Umm, that is....very kind of you," she softened.

 

But they were in the water like this to explore something below the surface (that was why she was now naked in here with a boy, right?) and it was back on focus. He asked if she could swim underwater and she immediately assured him she could.

 

Good!” he said decidedly “Now I’ll be Neptune and you’ll be Amphitrite, she was a water nymph who was nearly as pretty as you, and they had a high old time in his underwater kingdom, and that’s where we’re going to visit now!”

 

"And I thought we were going to check out the lake bottom," she quipped in that dry fashion of hers.

 

“Now, take a deep breath and come on!” he virtually ordered her.

 

Clara was game, frankly at this time Jacob could have asked her to jump off a cliff and she probably would have done so. She gulped a big breath of air and under she went. It wasn't the easiest style of swimming but she could do it, keeping close to him. Once she had opened her eyes, it was rather interesting to realize she could see down there. There was the temptation to not look for this mystery object but glance at his lanky figure but that was interrupted by him pointing specifically to something. She looked then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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"Umm, that is....very kind of you," she softened.

 

Jacob shook his head. “You mean it’s very truthful of me!” he corrected, looking slightly baffled by her. She was the most attractive person he had ever met in his life and yet giving her a well deserved compliment seemed to confuse her to the very core. Maybe she’d been flattered and then let down by a feller before. He didn’t know about her experiences at the hands of that philandering ex-gunfighter, Jesse Shade Thornton.

 

But they were in the water like this to explore something below the surface (that was why she was now naked in here with a boy, right?) and it was back on focus. He asked if she could swim underwater and she immediately assured him she could. 

 

“Good!” he said decidedly “Now I’ll be Neptune and you’ll be Amphitrite, she was a water nymph who was nearly as pretty as you, and they had a high old time in his underwater kingdom, and that’s where we’re going to visit now!”

 

"And I thought we were going to check out the lake bottom," she quipped in that dry fashion of hers.

 

Jacob chuckled in the water: she was so terrible at making jokes it was hilarious, and he loved her for it.

 

“Now, take a deep breath and come on!” he virtually ordered her.

 

Down they dove, Jacob keeping in mind that Clara might not be able to hold her breath for as long as he could. As soon as they neared the bottom of the lake at this point, the position of the ‘wreck’ became obvious. Although covered in a thin layer of dusty silt like the rest of the rocks and pebbles of the floor of that great water filled pit, there was an artificial, man hewn shape to the aged and rotted wooden spars and planks of whatever sort of craft it had been. And now he had a chance to look more closely, there was something more square shaped than long amongst the wreckage.

 

He pointed at it to Clara, who was swimming under the water with all the easy elan of a very beautiful looking lady otter, and diving right down to the bottom tried to grab at the thing, but it was caught under one of the planks of wood, which was itself held fast by the weight of the rest of the timber.

 

He was out of breath and considered that Clara must be, too. He launched off from the bottom, swirling up the ‘dust’ of the silt and gently and in all innocence put his hand on the small of her back to indicate they should regain the surface. It didn’t occur to him for an instant that this was any kind of ungentlemanly indiscretion: they weren’t civilized humans in this medium, they were just animals, a boy otter and girl otter, exploring around with twitching, curious noses.

 

After their heads broke above the surface of the lake, hair slick with the water, Jacob tried to speak while simultaneously gulping for air.

 

“Did ya see… [gasp]… that treasure chest?! … [gasp]… if I can lift up the plank … [gasp] can you try and pull it out … [gasp] …?” He caught his breath properly, and then added. “You looked wonderful under there, Clara, just like a mermaid.” He said. Really, he was still thinking ‘lady otter’ but that didn’t sound quite so complimentary!  

Edited by Javia (see edit history)
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It certainly was a strange new world under the water surface and even swimming had a different feel to it but she managed it, for over the years she really had developed into a very good swimmer, it had not been braggadocio. As she looked in the direction he was pointing, she saw ...something? A boat? Or more accurately wreckage of a boat. It looked like it had been there for a thousand years. Hardly possible of course.

 

However by then she was beginning to worry about what little breath she had left already, swimming was one thing, holding one's breath under the water was quite another. When he touched her back as a signal to surface, she needed no push but hurried to break the surface with a mighty gasp once she did. And there he was, also gulping in air.

 

“Did ya see… [gasp]… that treasure chest?! … [gasp]… if I can lift up the plank … [gasp] can you try and pull it out … [gasp] …?”

 

"I was too busy.... worrying about my lungs bursting," she replied then sucked in some more blessed air.

 

"But....yes, I can try it," while not for a minute did she believe whatever that was down there was a treasure chest, she was certainly curious and game for seeing if they could get a better look at it once they got it on land. Well,  IF  they could get it on land.

 

“You looked wonderful under there, Clara, just like a mermaid.”

 

"Hardly, I do not have a fish tail," she pointed out in that dry fashion of hers, well that was about the only part of her that was dry right about then.

 

But if there was one thing about Clara, she was the kind of person who always wanted to finish anything she started, she was now eager.

 

"Ready? Let us try once more!" no sooner had she spoken but she took a deep breath then ducked under.

 

 

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"I was too busy.... worrying about my lungs bursting," she replied then sucked in some more blessed air.

 

Jacob laughed, between his own gasps. “We wouldn't make very good pearl divers.”

 

"But....yes, I can try it,"

 

“You looked wonderful under there, Clara, just like a mermaid.”

 

"Hardly, I do not have a fish tail," she pointed out in that dry fashion of hers, well that was about the only part of her that was dry right about then. 

 

“I’ll try and look more carefully next time.” He conceded. Not that he hadn’t had a good look already.

 

"Ready? Let us try once more!" no sooner had she spoken but she took a deep breath then ducked under.

 

He didn’t even have time to shout wait for me! As he dived under after her.

 

This time it was different, like a well-planned military (or naval!) operation. They swam straight to the area of the wreck directly below them, Jacob – filled with that mad strength that fills the thews of men at work, when they are in the direct sight of a pretty girl – lifted the plank with ease, and nodded the signal for Clara to pull out the trunk. The way she handled it, it didn’t seem to be heavy under the water; there must be a good deal of air in the thing. That was either a good sign or bad, depending on what you were hoping was in there. One thing was for sure, it wasn’t full to the brim of golden Spanish doubloons!

 

As she needed both hands to cradle the thing, Jacob naturally found himself snaking his arm tight around her waist and, both with legs kicking furiously and cheeks bulging, swimming them both to the surface. The quite intimate touch of bare flesh on bare flesh, again, not seeming at all shocking or scandalous in the context of this watery world.

 

This time there was no talking or quipping for quite a few seconds as both gasped for oxygen as they hung onto the trunk, which looked weirdly normal now it was wrested from the watery clutches of the Lake.

 

Jacob eventually managed a one worded  “Let’sgetitoverthere!” and nodded to the shoreline, where they had jumped in. There was a bush-surrounded patch of muddy flat near the rockier part where they’d jumped in, where it would be easier to drag the box ashore. He had little doubt that it would be a lot heavier as they brought it out of the water and it lost its natural buoyancy.

Edited by Javia (see edit history)
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Clara waited as the boy cleared the plank away, she got a chance to get a view of those stringy muscles of his in action. She admitted that though he was scrawny he was not a weakling, a life of daily labor had assured that much. Then it was her turn so down she went, bending enough to latch both hands onto a handle on the trunk, hoping it would not simply rip off from the length of time this thing must have been down here.

 

One tug, a lot of resistance, embedded in sediment even though within the boat it did not want to budge but a second more driven yank did it and it was free! If she had failed she would have had to give up this attempt and surface regardless as her air was running out. But they got it and now they could bring it on up!

 

Jacob was there then to help assist their assent, wrapping one of his long arms around her. He was fortunate in the situation for had he attempted that normally she would have recoiled at the touch. She had long had a real issue with human contact. It was unexplainable but a part of her. Now she never even thought about it in their dual need to get to the surface and gasp for air.

 

Once their heads broke the surface, Jacob forced out a quick command, Let’sgetitoverthere!

 

No argument from her, in fact she said nothing in agreement either but saved her breath and effort to struggle to the shore.  She followed his lead, still clutching the suddenly heavier seeming object and it was not without further exertion that the two young people wrestled the trunk up and onto the dark soil. Both crawled inland until they were then on opposite sides of the trunk. They had done it though!

 

"Victory!" Clara announced in triumph, still oblivious to her complete lack of clothing. The moment was simply exhilarating! Of course that probably wouldn't last long  but now their eyes met as both took some seconds to breath in heavily.

 

 

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"Victory!" Clara announced in triumph, still oblivious to her complete lack of clothing. The moment was simply exhilarating! Of course, that probably wouldn't last long but now their eyes met as both took some seconds to breath in heavily.

 

Jacob looked back into Clara’s dark eyes, but then fell downwards onto her small, lovely breasts and then yet further down to her dark secrets, suddenly very aware of both his and her nakedness: he felt both shame and excitement, his breath was short now, but not from the exertion of dragging this Pandora’s box ashore. He wondered if this is what Adam and Eve felt like in the Garden of Eden, when their nakedness was revealed unto them for the first time by the Lord.

 

He didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare think, even, lest it break the spell. He met her eyes again. Unlike their sexless underwater existence, they had crawled onto the muddy land like two proto-mammalian amphibians. Pheromones, strong in their evolutionary purpose and now released from their watery bondage, forced themselves into the air from glands at the height of their reproductive powers and found willing receptors in the creature opposite. Mind, civilization, rules, consequences: these all hammered dumbly behind soundproof glass, unheeded by the two young animals that were suddenly under this spell, this eons-old urge to begin writhing in the Precambrian mud at the shore of the lake.

 

He didn’t know how he was so suddenly so close beside her, his hand lightly stroking her hair; his lips kissing the top of her head; his other hand naturally drawing her close. Their flesh, in this medium, touching and producing sensation of an energising, tickling, arousing hue. He stopped and looked again into her eyes. He loved her. Her happiness was all. Even at this point, his excitement all to obvious, he could still draw back at her signal.

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OOC: And at this point   FADE  TO  BLACK

 

          (What happened? Only those two know for sure  🙂)

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About Sagas

Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.

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Founders: Stormwolfe & Longshot

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