There was nothing like feeling the breeze on my bare skin as I lay outside. I was naked. Gloriously naked. Having no neighbors and being surrounded by a forest had its perks.
Having come from an extremely sunny western state, I loved today's weather—cloudy and drizzling. I lounged on my porch, appreciating the goosebumps that formed from the cool wood under my back. I felt wonderfully privileged.
After spending my twenty-something years clothed so intensely that it would make a nun feel modest, nudity felt absolutely glorious. I sat up, not minding the mild stomach rolls that had pledged me in my teens, and lazily traced the shape of my breast with the back of my fingers. No longer perky like a sixteen-year-old, I had slopped gracefully into maturity. The new curve that cupped my bottom of my breasts was a welcomed delight.
It had taken me years to accept that I would never look like a Victoria's Secret model. Once I came to that conclusion, it was a relief. Now, I simply felt gloriously feminine.
The cooling air smelled of rain. I swung my legs over the side of the porch and leaned back on my palms, tipping my head back to look at the grey sky. Having my breasts and the curls between my legs exposed felt deliciously vulnerable.
There were no male eyes that scanned me like a meal. No tight buttons-ups to hide my chest. No small waistbands that flattened my stomach. Here, I was simply me.
I pushed myself from my seat and wandered barefoot into the lightly falling rain. It was achingly cold.
I am alive. I ran a hand through my short, damp hair and arched my chest to the sky. The dark soil beneath my feet felt soft, and the plants tickling my ankles made me feel like I was apart of the earth, like I was growing from it.
A twig snapped.
Unconcerned, and thinking it was an animal, I looked over my shoulder. A flash of adrenaline and despair shot through me. A man stood at the timberline, mouth open and eyes wide. His eyes met mine and then plummeted to the ground, shoulders slumping in shame.
Oddly, I felt my courage come floating back. I felt calm, undisturbed. I made no effort to cover myself and stared openly at the man. Even several yards away, I could tell he was tall. He was bulky with muscle, his torso forming a wrestler's 'V' from his wide chest that melted into an equally muscular, but tight, abdomen. As my eyes traveled lower, I noticed a bulge that sparked a tentative wave of heat between my legs. Suddenly feeling modest, I looked back up to his face. His eyes flickered from the ground to me, and then back down again. He opened his mouth as if to say something, flushed, and stayed silent.
Being a woman who had suffered before at the hands of a man, I felt oddly in control. Calm.
"Stay there." I called to him, and began walking back to the house. I didn't glance back at him. Once inside, I pulled on some clothes. How am I so calm? I wondered as I pulled on an oversized sweater, Why am I not scared out of my mind? I stepped back outside. The man was still there, motionless beside a great oak.
"What's your name?" I called to him. He looked up and I beckoned to him. He dropped his head and walked slow despite the pouring rain. It seemed surreal to watch him approach.
"Steve Rogers, ma'am." he called once he was closer, looking up at me through his sodden blond bangs.
"The Captain." it wasn't a question. He nodded and stopped at the edge of the porch. I began to wonder if I'd taken too great a risk in calling him over—he towered over me, and even with his head bowed, he could still hit it on the awning.
"Come in." I said, ignoring my surprise at his height, " Watch your head."
"Ma'am," he said, not moving, "I-I had no intention of trespassing or," he took a breath, "-or spying on you." He glanced up at me, and sensing safer territory, continued, "I was running and didn't get out of my mind. I managed to get myself lost, ma'am, and ended up here."
I paused, processing it.
"Come in before you get sick." I said, turning to go inside. He hesitated.
"I won't offer again."
He took a step up onto the porch, ducking his head, and I went inside for a towel and spare clothes. When I returned, he was still there, dripping wet.
"My cousin left some sweats and a shirt from when he visited last. They're in the bathroom. Here," I said, handing him a towel, "We'll talk when you're more comfortable."
"Yes, Ma'am." He accepted the towel and stepped gingerly inside. There was no need for him to ask where the bathroom was. From the open door you could see the living room and kitchen, and a hint of the bathroom that sat in a narrow hallway. My bedroom was tucked away in the back.
I heated up some tea while he dried off, thinking he might still be cold. However, I did keep the windows and the door open. The breeze was slight enough not chill, and the air was too sweet to pass up on. As I waited, I let my thoughts travel back to the bulge I had seen. He wasn't having that problem now, I had noticed, and I was sure I scared it out of him. But, I was curious about the sudden arousal that I had felt. It had been a fair amount of time since I'd slept with anyone, so perhaps that's how it managed to slip past my better judgment?
Steve clearing his throat woke me from my thoughts and I turned to face him, cup in hand.
"I'm surprised they fit as well as they do."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said. Though, the sweat pants did look a little short.
I moved to sit at the table and he joined me. I passed his mug to him before saying,
"I feel inclined to believe your story, Captain." his blue eyes flickered up to my face, "But how did your GPS and other electronics keep you lost?"
His large hands were cupped around the mug, nearly hiding it. I noticed the veins that traveled along the back of his hands, and how large his fingers were. I desperately tried to ignore another shock of heat.
"I left it, ma'am. I need to be alone."
Pulling my thoughts together, I gestured to the house and how secluded it was, "I can understand that."
A smile graced his lips for a moment,
"And call me Y/N." I said.
"Yes, ma'am."
I smiled, "Does anyone know you're here? I really do like my privacy and I'd rather not have people snooping around when I'm—" I inclined my head towards the outside. The Captain flushed,
"No ma'am. I told everyone I wouldn't be back to base till late. If they really needed to find me, it wouldn't be difficult for them. But I believe they aren't." he said.
I breathed a sigh of relief and took a sip from my mug. A silence glided over the conversation.
After a moment, I looked up from my tea to offer him a ride, but found him staring his mug, flushed, and his hands weren't on the table.
Hey readers! Thanks for checking this out! The next and final "chapter" is going to be the more 'active' part, so please leave a review! It's really nice to know if people are reading and enjoying it.
On a side note, I was rereading this, and I'd like to add that this is NOT a masturbation story. Hands below the table might sound that way, but I can assure you that it isn't!