No, But There's One for Meet-Cutes

The next step is pretty obvious. You need pants. There are no pants in this little campsite. Ergo, you must leave the campsite.

You wrap the blanket around your waist and hold it in one hand in an attempt to preserve your modesty and/or at least stop looking at your new giant dong. Heading out, you immediately step on it and fall over. The blanket, not the dong. After a moment of consideration, you decide that whoever stripped you probably already saw you naked, so time to head out!

Picking a random direction, you start marching through the woods. Almost immediately, you start to hear the sounds of a babbling brook, possibly because the birds have finally shut their yaps. Water is good right? As you wrack your brain for the natural habitat of the bell-bottom jean, you stumble across the stream.

Standing naked in the stream is a woman. Not just any woman, but some kind of athletic yoga goddess. She has her back to you, but below her shoulder-length black hair, you can see lean and defined musculature that reminds you of a cheetah or a jaguar, or some kind of other predatory cat. Rivulets of water stream down her body, her pale skin glistening, dappled with the leaves’ shadows, almost glowing in the afternoon sun.

Also, That. Ass. Holy fuck, you could bounce a quarter off that thing. Just… wow.

As she scoops water on herself, you gain tantalizing glimpses of boob. Just enough to see that there’s definitely something delightful there, if she’d only turn around. You focus your entire mind on silently and mentally convincing the universe that she should turn around and present her wet, glistening, frontside for your viewing enjoyment.

Turn around, turn around, turn around, turn- oh wait, if she turns around she’ll see you, and you’re not only naked but have a very clear erection. No time to marvel at the size of said erection, a good three inches longer than what you’re used to packing, because now it’s time to hide. Just very quietly step over to that bush right there because you know, generally, naked with an erection while watching someone clean themselves is not a good first impression. Even if you have a giant dick. You’re pretty sure.

Unfortunately for you, that first quiet step is not that quiet. You’d like to think that you were unbalanced by your new equipment, but it’s entirely possible that you were just too distracted by the marvel before you to notice the dried leaf you step on.

At the crunch of your footstep, the stream erupts in a flurry of movement. You’re not exactly sure what happened, but the end result is, let’s say mixed.

Plus side, she’s turned around, and you finally get to see them. Generous mounds, somehow defying gravity as droplets of water cling to areola nearly the same pale pink of her skin, with tiny nipples perked up under the cold water. A part of you wishes you could replay that scramble of motion just now in your brain slowed down again and again and again, because surely in there wondrous jiggles and bounces must have occurred.

But somehow, they’re not what your eyes are drawn to. Instead, you meet her eyes. Brilliant, piercing, pale blue-gray eyes that somehow seem to glow as they stare into your soul. They define her face, complemented by a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, sucking all your attention away from even her boobs or the sword she’s pulled on you.

Right, that’s the minus side. Somewhere in the flurry of movement, she’d leapt over to the pile of clothes you hadn’t noticed before, drawn a sword, and now has the tip of it tickling your throat.