The day at the lake

"What a great day," said Bonnie, splashing around in Pinkwhistle Lake. The sun was shining, the grass was growing, the birds were singing. Just another idyllic day in the beautiful middle American town.

"Yeah," said Susie, a little bashful. She glanced at Bonnie as the redhead bobbed out of the water, pale skin glowing in the sunlight, strong shoulders sprinkled with freckles, just the tips of her pink nipples emerging from the surface of the lake. Quickly she looked away. "Um... is it really okay for us to be doing this?"

"What? Skinny-dipping?"

"What if somebody comes along and catches us? What if we get in trouble?"

"You're such a little scaredy-cat," said Bonnie. "Nobody knows the secret route down to the hidden side of Pinkwhistle Lake but me, and maybe Sandra McCoy, but she's not telling anyone. Not since I beat her in that arm-wrestling contest. We're perfectly safe."

"You better be right," said Susie, feeling the mud squish between her toes. There was no reason why two best friends shouldn't go skinny-dipping together, in a completely innocent way. But she still felt a little nervous. At least the lake water was cool and refreshing against her skin, her long slim legs, her small but perky breasts and summer-apple bottom. And it was a beautiful day.

The two girls splashed around for several more minutes, teasing and playing and ducking each other, before they decided to get out of the lake. They swam in a leisurely way back to the bank, to the dry patch underneath the trees, where they'd kept their clothes, tucked into a hollow log for security.

Bonnie peeped in the log, as Susie hung back, fixing her eyes on the trees and trying not to scope out Bonnie's round bare bottom. "Yep," she heard Bonnie say. "They're..."

FZZZP.

"Oh my god! Where are our clothes?"