Despite my warning, Liz went to work with her usual enthusiasm, pushing heavy wheelbarrow loads of dirt to the sifter, combing for artifacts, and removing the waste soil at her usual rapid pace. It was on our third break of the morning, about eleven o’clock, when I asked all the kids how much longer we should work. Normally, we took our lunch break around one in the afternoon, and stayed in the shade until three, writing up notes and making plans for the rest of the day. I was miserable, and some of the kids were looking pretty drained, so I suggested we quit for the day.
No one wanted to be the first to agree, so I decided to take a vote. We went around the group, and ended with Liz. She looked at me and said, “Doc, I’m guess I’m the tie-breaker. Normally, I would say we should stop wasting time and get back to work, but it’s just too damn hot. So, I vote we go swimming.”
The creek was safe. That’s where we bathed, but we always went alone or with a same-gender partner. That was simply a matter of respect for each other’s modesty. I suspected some of the kids went for late-night coed swims, but, being about fifteen years older than most of them and being their professor, I never asked about it or considered joining in.
Liz looked around the group and asked, “So, it’s decided? We’re done digging for the day?”
I nodded. “We’re off work for the day.”
“Good!” she said, happily. She got up, walked to the edge of the creek, and pulled off her boots and socks. The hat came next, and then she untied her pony tail and combed her long dark hair out with her fingers. Turning to us, she called, “Am I going to be the only one? The water looks great.” Right there in front of us, she unbuttoned her shirt. Stroking her hair forward over her chest, she shrugged the shirt off. No bra. Then she took her pants off and stood there, wearing just a pair of tiny black panties. God, she was perfect.
Turning back to the water, Liz pulled her panties off and bent over at the waist to add them to the pile of clothes at her feet. That was when I made a few decisions. First, I was going swimming. Second, I wasn’t going to worry about sporting a boner. If anyone couldn’t understand why a thirty-five-year old professor would get hard looking at that twenty-year old ass, well, I wasn’t sure an explanation was possible. Third, and most importantly, I decided I wanted to fuck Liz.
We all eventually got naked and waded into the creek. You have to be fit if you’re doing an archeological dig. This was an academic exercise, but we worked like the ditch-diggers we were. The girls were all cute, and it was obvious that all us guys appreciated that, but my eyes saw little except Liz. I was right about her. Her breasts were that wonderful size that makes them fill a shirt, or your hands or mouth, perfectly. The areolas were round, about the size of a quarter, with succulent little nipples standing proudly on them, hardened by the cool water. The nearly black hair which beautified her head was completely absent from the rest of her body, allowing me a clear view of the tasty-looking outer lips of her pussy.