pink_silk_glove
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2018
- Posts
- 2,798
When I was about fourteen, my family met up with my Mom's brothers and sisters and their families in the Okanagan. It's a summer lake resort-y type of place. We brought our campers and for a few days we hung out on the beach, did the water slide thing, all that. One afternoon we got together to do what many people do there and that was to raft down the canal. Now this is not white water at all. You take any inflatable inner tube or what not and you lazily go with the calm current in the sun. There are like twenty of us, aunts uncles cousins, in an armada of rafts and inner tubes making our way along. It's a hot sunny day, thirty-degrees-plus. We don't quite have enough water craft for everyone and our raft is crowded, so I take off my sandals and jump into the water. It's no problem, as I can swim, the water is really nice and the family flotilla is doing maybe two miles per hour. And if I really do need a break along the way I can always just grab onto the side for a minute or two, not to mention that we're never more than ten or twenty feet from shore. My Mom got upset. I must have splashed a bit or something, but the way that I saw it, it was more comfortable for everyone with less people in the boat and I didn't mind at all.
After a couple of hours, we reach the end of the canal. Before hand, we had parked a couple of our cars in the parking lot at the south end so that we could drive back to the campground. I swim to shore. Everyone pulls the rafts and tubes out of the water, carries them up the slope and across the lot to the cars. I get to the top of the slope and suddenly I realize that I have a problem. The entire parking lot is a thick loose blanket of newly laid sharp gravel that's been roasting in the Okanagan sun all day - and my sandals are in the raft on the other side of the lot. perhaps it is my subliminal punishment for rebelliously jumping overboard to swim escort alongside the navy, but no one is the least bit interested in bringing me my sandals.
I stand there at the edge of the lot, looking at all that hot gravel, then at my bare feet, then the several yards distance across the lot, then the gravel again, my feet, the distance, analyzing, scheming, trying to figure out a way to do this with the least amount of hurt.
"Be tough."
I'm startled by the voice and I look down to my left to see my six-year-old cousin, his thick dark hair all dripping wet from playing in the water. He's got a serious look in his eyes, like he's Bruce Willis or Arnold Schwarzenegger challenging me to rise to the occasion. His been watching my eyes from the gravel to my feet to the cars and he knows exactly what my predicament is. He also has the answer.
No one owes me anything here. I'm on my own and I just gotta get the job done. He knows that I can do it too. I can't help but smile that my six-year-old cousin has the sage wisdom that I need. I take a deep breath and start walking. It hurts. I'm hissing and panting all the way, but I get there. My Mom even scolds me, reminding me that it's my own fault for jumping out of the raft in the first place. I don't know what the hell her problem is that day, but whatever. I made it and with no permanent damage.
It was not a pleasant experience, but in the grand scheme of life, it was a speck, a nothing. No big whoop. The next time someone scores your story a 1 or leaves a spiteful comment, just remember that in the grand scheme of even literotica, let alone the whole of life, it's a speck, a nothing. No one owes you anything. You can take it.
Be tough.
After a couple of hours, we reach the end of the canal. Before hand, we had parked a couple of our cars in the parking lot at the south end so that we could drive back to the campground. I swim to shore. Everyone pulls the rafts and tubes out of the water, carries them up the slope and across the lot to the cars. I get to the top of the slope and suddenly I realize that I have a problem. The entire parking lot is a thick loose blanket of newly laid sharp gravel that's been roasting in the Okanagan sun all day - and my sandals are in the raft on the other side of the lot. perhaps it is my subliminal punishment for rebelliously jumping overboard to swim escort alongside the navy, but no one is the least bit interested in bringing me my sandals.
I stand there at the edge of the lot, looking at all that hot gravel, then at my bare feet, then the several yards distance across the lot, then the gravel again, my feet, the distance, analyzing, scheming, trying to figure out a way to do this with the least amount of hurt.
"Be tough."
I'm startled by the voice and I look down to my left to see my six-year-old cousin, his thick dark hair all dripping wet from playing in the water. He's got a serious look in his eyes, like he's Bruce Willis or Arnold Schwarzenegger challenging me to rise to the occasion. His been watching my eyes from the gravel to my feet to the cars and he knows exactly what my predicament is. He also has the answer.
No one owes me anything here. I'm on my own and I just gotta get the job done. He knows that I can do it too. I can't help but smile that my six-year-old cousin has the sage wisdom that I need. I take a deep breath and start walking. It hurts. I'm hissing and panting all the way, but I get there. My Mom even scolds me, reminding me that it's my own fault for jumping out of the raft in the first place. I don't know what the hell her problem is that day, but whatever. I made it and with no permanent damage.
It was not a pleasant experience, but in the grand scheme of life, it was a speck, a nothing. No big whoop. The next time someone scores your story a 1 or leaves a spiteful comment, just remember that in the grand scheme of even literotica, let alone the whole of life, it's a speck, a nothing. No one owes you anything. You can take it.
Be tough.
