Wait, does this mean UW is no longer Forever Champions?

One of my most memorable days of flyfishing was on the Texas State campus in San Marcos.

I was out on the San Marcos River early on what was to be another triple-digit summer day. Tucked behind some giant reeds, I was stalking some wily Rio Grande cichlids when a group of 3 inner-tubers were approaching. The river gets unfishable as the "tube" hatch balloons into an infestation by late morning. Alas, these early tubers were harbingers of an abrupt end to my AM line-wetting. Dammit!

I expected them to be the typically loud, uncivilized mouthbreathers that ruin summer fishing in the Texas Hill Country. However, so far, they were relatively quiet.

When they finally floated into my casting zone, I was pleasantly surprised to see that all 3 were ridiculously hot, tight-bodied, college females. Most likely TSU coeds. Two of the three were lying on their backs, toes dangling in the water over the edges of their tubes. The other was precariously straddling the tube, face down, legs spread wide open.

The next 30 seconds remain in my memory as an abnormally super-slo-mo, high-def experience.

The two ladies on their backs were topless without tan lines. One had B/C sized tits, with magnificently puffy, perky areolas, and hard, erect nipples that were so elevated they cast long shadows across her hard abdomen. I pulled the polarized sunglasses off my face for an unobstructed view. She proceeded to sprinkle river water over her chest, leaving droplets of water that, no shit, refracted light from her casabas into my eyes that spanned all colors in the visible spectrum.

Female deux was stacked from here to San Antonio. And topless. Look up voluptuous and you'll find an image of this chick and her rack. She used her index fingers to lightly trace the circumference of her nipples Dear Lord. Blood was rushing to my groin despite the cool, spring-fed waters in which I was wet wading.

The third young woman was also topless, but her breasts not visible owing to her prostrate, prone position. But was visible was a glistening ass, unobstructed by clothing beyond the scant threads of a thong spanning her lower back which magically disappeared into undoubtedly oft-fucked crevice. As the triad of tethered inner tubes gracefully rotated on the river's surface, it caused her spread-eagled crotch to be aligned perfectly with my fly rod and eyes. Her miniscule thong intersected her labia majora, while pinning her exposed labia minora on the left side. Her labs and ass were covered in sweat droplets thanks to the intense, Texas sun. I swear I could smell salted caramel, with a hint of ambergris, in that moment.

As they drifted out of view, I receded into the dense stand of reeds until I reached shore. I sat on the bank thinking, after a lifetime of flyfishing, this was unlikely to happen again. That is, until the next set of topless coeds drifted by about three minutes later.

Texas State. Worth a look.