The Runaway Boob

 

*For those of you who read my book, the following story will sound familiar.  The story in my book is based on this story.

Scott and I were on yet another river trip, this time on the Main Salmon.  We were part of a group of 12 other boaters and had an amazing first few days on the water.  The morning of day three was cool and cloudy.  I was paddling an inflatable kayak, and Scott was in his cat boat.  There were other rafts and other kayakers.  It was a mixed bag of boaters.  We were all excited because on that day, we would reach the hot springs.  

This particular hot spring on the Main is lovely.  Years ago, someone built a rock pool into the side of the mountain to collect the hot water that flowed out of the rocks.  A small cold-water creek cascades into the pool as well, so the water temperature in the rock pool is always perfect.  It is a welcome treat on a cool, cloudy day, and a nice way to rinse off the neoprene stench that quickly adheres to the skin.  The group was excited.

We had a fun morning of paddling and rowing, and reached the hot springs near lunchtime.  I was cold in my kayak, so I quickly paddled to shore, hopped out of my boat, stripped off my stinky wetsuit, and started climbing.  Scott followed behind me as we climbed up the steep creek, navigating the slippery rocks and avoiding the poison ivy that crowded the banks.  We reached the pool and both stepped in, slowly sinking up to our necks.  The water was perfect.  I felt the chill slowly release its grip on my bones.  My muscles loosened and my teeth stopped chattering.  

As we soaked, we watched the other group members carefully make their way up the creek.  One by one, they reached the pool.  To be clear, Scott and I were wearing our swimsuits.  A few of the other members shucked all articles of clothing and entered the pool in their birthday suits.  Fine.  No judgement.  Also, we were all submerged to our necks, so while the water was crystal clear, no one was parading around on full display.  

The pool is large, but there were 14 of us in the group, so as more and more people entered the pool, we had to squish together a bit.  The group chatted about the morning, the rest of the day, the wildlife we had seen, how good the hot water felt, and made general small talk.    

I was sitting next to Scott.  Scott was sitting next to one of the older ladies who had opted to go nude.  I noticed Scott making small, discreet swiping motions on the surface of the water, like he was wiping crumbs off a counter.  What is he doing? I wondered.  I continued to watch him, and he continued to occasionally swipe at the water.  

Finally, I leaned over and whispered, "What are you doing?"

He looked at me and gave a subtle jerk of his head toward the woman sitting next to him.  I noticed immediately and started to giggle.  The woman, fully nude, had large breasts.  Without any sort of containment, her breasts were floating high in the water.  As people shifted in the pool, the small waves caused her large bosoms to float in various directions, drifting left or right with the currents.  Each time the water pushed them toward Scott, he would swipe at the water to shift them the other way.  

I giggled, giggled more, then started laughing.  Scott chuckled in the quiet way that he did, not wanting to draw attention.  He leaned close to me and softly said, "Let's get out.  I've had enough runaway boob for the day."