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Adventure at Big Boggy Park - Part One
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This fictional story contains several adult situations, Jeeps,
slippery and sticky mud, and a twist at the end. If any of these might
offend you, please do not continue. The author gives rights for the
non-profit distribution of this story provided it is unaltered and
includes this message and credit. All comments, suggestions, related
experiences and stories are welcomed by the author and may be sent
to: [email protected].
***********Challenge at Big Boggy Park*************
Part One: The Arrival
I was on vacation, and after a night of drinking at The
Lookout Bar in Surfside I awoke to the sunny south Texas sun and
went for a little walk on the beach. Finding nothing but a
couple hermit crabs and a few oil blots, got in my Cherokee and
headed south. As I made my way along the coastline, far from the
hubbub of the more industrial areas and into more remote country,
I passed a small sign pointing the way to "Big Boggy State Park."
As a confirmed mudder and adventurer, I had to check out what
appeal a park by this name might have. I wheeled the Jeep around
onto the small dirt road that snaked back through the dense
trees. The main road was only a few miles from shore and since
the park was in-between, I wondered just how big or interesting
it could possibly be. The road nevertheless wound back and forth
for several miles, and at one point I saw a small office and
parking lot with what looked like a girl in a black bikini
suntanning out in front. The trees quickly became more dense,
and I couldn't see the spot any longer, but after a couple of
minutes of driving, I finally reached the entrance. As I pulled
into the small parking lot, I saw a Jeep almost exactly like
mine, same make, year, and color parked next to the office by the
gate... but nobody was outside.
As I walked up, my sandals crunched on the gravel and
through an open window I saw the girl in the small office look
up. She was very attractive, tall, blonde hair and fabulous tan
skin. Under a somewhat loose and ill-fitting Park Ranger's
uniform, I could see the promise of an incredible build. My eyes
traveling down, I saw a pair of gorgeous legs connecting her
shorts and hiking boots. As I stepped in, she put down a
magazine and looked up.
"Nice Jeep," I opened.
I looked for a name tag and finding none, she somewhat
nervously answered,"... Kim." She looked out to the matched pair
of vehicles in the lot. "Yea," she joked, " I wish I had one
like yours! So, How can I help you?"
I asked if there was anything of interest in a park with such
a lovely name. She chuckled at the attempt at sarcasm. While
still looking at our matching vehicles, she explained how Big
Boggy was mainly a reserve set up by a major oil company that had
to buy the land for some reason, then donated it to the state as
a tax right-off. A single trail wound through, but there was
really nothing more than bogs, mire and lots of mud.
I answered that I happened to love hiking through bogs and
mud, bragging that I'd hiked through hundreds of bogs, swamps and
mires, been in quicksand many times, and still had never been
stuck.
She picked up on the cockiness in my voice, and looking me
over, top to bottom. Whit a little more interest in her voice
she replied "Oh really? *Never* been stuck? I've heard that
from lot's of guys..."then she added daringly, " ...and I've had
to extract guys driving a lot bigger Jeeps than yours...but I
guess that's part of my job..."
"I meant on foot" I said.
"So did I" she countered coyly.
After sizing her up, I asked "So how do these big strong men
get in such a predicament?" in a slightly mocking voice.
"Most are either older, macho hikers with their big German
boots, or else Nike-clad frat-rats who have had a little too much
beer ..." she paused slightly, "...to be of much other amusement
to me... and end up getting in a little too deep..."
"Ooooo... their booties get stuck?" I taunted.
"Among other things... "
I picked up the gauntlet. "Well, I'm a sandal-wearing
consultant... care to place your mud where your mouth is?"
"Any time" she quickly and confidently replied. "An-ny
time."
"Do you have a map of the park?" I asked.
She hesitantly glanced around, and stammered on about
printing delays, revisions, etc.
She asked "How about a personal tour instead?"
It only took a slight raising of her eyebrows to get me get
up. Smiling broadly I reply " I thought you'd never ask!"
When I asked if she would get in trouble for leaving her
office, she assured me that there was no way she'd get fired.
And well, it was her job to show people around.
As she locked the door behind her, and posted a yellow note
reading "Back in 30 minutes. Kim." Walking toward the trail,
she complained that most of the trips into the park were for
suit-wearing oil company executives and lab technicians, and that
they didn't like to get dirty. "So we might get muddy walking
through here?" I asked. She answered: "Oh, yes" in a deep voice
and smiled. "Come on, Hot shot."
Part Two: The Adventure
Two paths left the office. One was labled BOG TRAIL. The
other had no sign, and Kim headed toward it. "Let's take the
trail backwards... it's more interesting that way" she suggested.
I followed obligingly.
As we walked, I took the time to find out more about her.
"How did a nice girl like you end up in a swamp like this?"
seemed like an appropriate line. She explained that as a teen
she also enjoyed squishing barefoot through mud and this had led
her to major in Parks and Recreation in College. When this
position came up the name caught her interest, so she toured the
place and because of the oil company's endowment the pay was
nearly double that of any other position. "... and the park has
its charms..." she concluded. I noticed a sign back hiden in the
brush as we passed it. It was strange hiking a trail backwards;
the signs were placed so that they were visible primarily from
the front. As I looked back, the cheery sign reminded us "Take
only memories... leave only footprints! Thanks!" Kim looked
back and chuckled. "I doubt you'll forget *these* memories!" I
gulped with expectation.
I asked what she did for this massive salery. Her job entailed
regularly checking the trails, showing around... select...
guests, and lots of leisure reading. The descending trail passed
a crystal clear pool of spring water. Ahead the trail began to
get a little muddy. Kim paused and took off her boots and socks,
leaving them by the side of the pool. "The trail is pretty
smooth, and the mud feels *so* good between my toes." she purred,
and suggested I join her. Her perfectly painted toenails were
fire-engine red, and every bit as tan as her legs. I noticed
several large, discolored spots on her feet, common to
beachwalkers in this area. These I knew from the one or two
smaller ones on my own feet were picked up where blots of raw,
crude oil spilled from off-shore rigs, tankers, etc. had washed
up onto the beach. Even after using gas or turpentine, they were
almost impossible to wash off. I complemented her on her even
tan, and she explained "it takes constant work..." I mentioned
that it must be rough getting an even tan with that ranger
outfit, and she looked around at the sunny sky and stretched.
"Actually," she confided," I'd REALLY like to work on the tan
today. Mind if I ...?" I swallowed hard and shook my head. She
unbuttoned her blouse and quickly stripped off the blouse,
revealing the hoped for black bikini which barely contained the
bounteous proportions of her breasts. After removing my sandals,
I disrobed to my swim briefs (still on from my stroll on the
beach earlier.) Following my lead, she removed her shorts,
revealing a matching thong that could be the only suitable match
to her perfect top. We continued a bit, sliding and squishing our
way down the trail. I sniffed the air; it was getting damp and
had a musty swamp smell. On the left was what looked like a
small pond (about 30' wide) that had dried up, leaving behind a
smooth, glossy brown flat surrounded by reeds. There was a spot
that looked churned up about 7-8 feet in that had several
footprints leading up to it. She stopped by the edge.
"This is one of my favorite spots." She began. "The mud here
is *so* smooth and soft, it's better than any lotion I've found!"
"So that's the secret behind your gorgeous skin!" I
exclaimed, rubbing my hand on her bare back.
She shuttered ever so slightly, and smiled. "It's *really*
good." And patting my rear added, "Your skin looks a little
dry..."
The smile broke out into a full teeth grin that screamed "I
dare ya!"
"You're the expert," I replied. "Give me the tour?"
"It gets a little deep in the middle..." she warned, as I
took my first step. My foot squelched into the mud, through the
slick brown surface and into the dark black mire below.
"Like I said before," I challenged, "I haven't gotten stuck
yet!"
The mud along the edges was between 1"-12" deep. Each step
resulted in a quiet "blurp" as the cool, buttery mud enveloped my
foot. As I pulled out each foot, the mud quietly slurped. The
amazing part was that there wasn't a bump or grain in the entire
texture... it was perfectly smooth.
Kim had entered the mud, and walked in until she was almost
up to her knees. "I come out here a lot," she mused, "the mud is
cooler and more relaxing than anything I've found so far, and the
air conditioning in the office doesn't always keep up with the
Texas sun." At this point Kim began working her way into the
yielding bog, until she was kneeling.
"Why is this your favorite?" I asked, working my way over to
where she was settling into.
"Well, there are a couple special bogs here," she explained
as she slowly wiggled her way into a seated position, the mud
just below her breasts, "... but this one has the softest mud...
and the coolest. The trees keep it in the shade most of the time
and the sea breeze keeps the air moving, so there aren't many
bugs."
I had to agree. The mud here was the softest, coolest, most
inviting I had ever encountered. Each step was like a French
Kiss, and when I got to where Kim was gently undulating, I worked
my way in beside her. The soft mud readily gave way, accepting
my body in a wet, tight but relaxed embrace, Mother Earth's cool
lips sucking every curve of my body. I started to feel my body
instinctively relax, as the bog supported my weight.
It seemed natural to reach over and start massaging Kim's
shoulders. The mud was indeed as smooth and slick as any lotion,
and she smiled as she settled back into the mud toward me. As I
stopped and scooped up a handful of the oily goo, she looked back
over her shoulder and her lips met mine. The warm, wet, kiss was
welcomed and reciprocated. The soft glob of mud began oozing out
of my hand between my fingers. As the kissing grew more
passionate, I was about to put it down when her hand caught mine
and pulled it to her chest, smearing the morass in the rich
cleavage under the bikini top. The mud coated each breast like
grease, and as my massaging (and her breathing) became more
agitated the top slipped off. Soon our bodies were a slippery,
writhing, wiggling tangle, the mud lubricating our skin so that
there wasn't the slightest hint of friction anywhere. Her hands
began sliding over my chest and waist, easily sliding under my
swim trunks, and I found my hands matching hers move for move.
The slime coating eliminated any resistance, and our actions
brought each other closer and closer. We settled deeper and
deeper into the mud pit, churned to a soupy black pool by our
actions, and as our passions mounted, the ripples spread out
across the pond like tiny waves climaxing to a torrid release.
In the afterglow, we looked at each others mud spattered
faces, the only portion of our bodies not *completely* coated in
a thin, glossy, black glaze, and burst into laughter!
"Whoa... I see the appeal of this spot for you." I gasped.
Even now, the mud still erotically slurped and caressed us
whenever we moved in the slightest. Kim smiled a contentedly and
nodded in blissful agreement.
"Yep." she confirmed, leaning back on my chest. "it really
greases the ol' gears!" she said in her best pseudo-drawl.
We laughed and rested, floating weightlessly and effortlessly
for a long time, talking lazily about the joy's of nature.
Part Three: The Challenge
As the afternoon wore on, I got up and started to stretch my
legs. I began walking around the mud pond, venturing in toward
the center at various spots while Kim floated contentedly in our
little pool. The pond appeared to get about thigh-deep near the
center, which would have been above Kim's waist. Although the
smooth mud sucked at my bare feet, it posed no problem to my
freedom.
"So this is the 'big challenge' of the great Big Boggy State
Park?" I gloated.
"Hey, when it's up to your waist, the going is pretty
slow..." Kim teased. " but remember, I just said this is the spot
I think has the *best* mud, and now I think you now know for
what!" she added. "I had to let you try out the 'kiddy pool'
first ...now there is another bog..." she began hesitantly.
"No arguments from me on this bog!" I conceded willingly.
"Let's wash off." she suggested. "I want to get a little sun
this afternoon!" We continued talking as we walked back to the
clear pool and washed off.
"So where is the big challenge...? " I had been in waist deep
and deeper mud of all thicknesses before. I knew that as long
as you were barefoot, the suction of the mud couldn't get a
strong enough grip on your feet and legs to hold you fast. "...
waist deep didn't seem so bad..."
Kim's voice grew more serious, but her eyes took on a
challenging sparkle. "In the other bog...you wouldn't want to
get in deeper than your thighs... " and shaking her head she
added in just the right mocking tone, "...really sticky
stuff...besides, you're cute and I don't feel like being bothered
to have to pull you out." She paused, grinning smugly as she
slowly washed the mud from her breasts, her carefully chosen
words striking their intended target like cruse missiles.
This was a perfect example of one of those points where male
testosterone makes life difficult. On one hand, it signaled my
groin: "Hey, this is good! She thinks you're cute! Who knows,
you could end up getting it three or four more times today
alone!!!" and on the other hand, it spurs on the male ego that
is screaming "What are you talking about?!?! You KNOW you can
get through! A little girl might get stuck, but a guy like you?!
If you don't show her, she'll think YOU'RE a little girl! Come
on, be a man!"
My groin was bordering on winning, when she launched the
final missile with a raised eyebrow. "I bet there would be
something I might be able to do to make the challenge more
worthwhile ... unless you're chicken."
Direct hit!
As every schoolboy on up knows, men have this genetic
inability to turn down a dare from a beautiful woman. When
coupled with the promise of erotic gratification, this becomes
impossible to resist! She seemed to have a perfect sense of when
and how to keep me going, and to be honest, the thought of being
"stuck" with her in a bog was not such a bad idea, so I leapt up
and like a dog on the hunt, barked "Let's go!"
Kim smiled triumphantly and lead the way.
<<<<continued next file>>>>
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