I was an avid hiker when in college. My girlfriend Jessica and I would go nearly every weekend. The only problem was her best and bitchy friend Cindy would almost always accompany us. Actually, since Cindy was cute and sexy, the real problem was that neither she nor my girlfriend was interested in group sex.
Well, my girlfriend and I were very interested in sex with each other, however, and our basic aim was to do it as much as possible wherever we happened to be.
This was generally not a problem when hiking, as after pitching camp, we would simply skip off into the woods or behind a rock and suck and fuck while Cindy twiddled her thumbs or perhaps other body parts.
Well, one night after hiking nearly 20 miles, we finally got to the top of the mountain, the lone campers up there. I fetched water, cooked dinner, and strung up the remaining food between two trees. And though it was spring, it was cold as hell up there at night, so we all wriggled into our sleeping bags under a two-person tent. Three people in one two-person tent = extra cozy.
Something came up. My dick, to be exact. My girlfriend was also horny, so it was really no problem slipping my hard cock into her wet pussy, as we'd zipped our bags together and were nestled in a spoons position. But, in so doing, we did not want to awake Cindy, who was literally pressed against me, so we had to keep the vigor to a minimum. Less vigor = longer fuck.
Well, we finally had orgasm on the radar screen when Cindy awoke, but we were not about to stop fucking at that point. Cindy kept saying, in a raspy whisper-shout, to stop, stop, stop, and some mumbo-jumbo about something else I didn't quite hear while whacking my back with her fist.
To stop this infernal coitus interruptus, still inside our sleeping bag, I rolled back, careful to carry Jessica with me and not slip out of her pussy, in order to pin Cindy in her bag and squash the breath out of her. That body-mute worked quite nicely, and Jessica and I came big time shortly thereafter.
I pumped the last bit of my seed into Jessica, released Cindy from the pin, and smiled. Cindy was anything but smiling but was unexpectedly quiet and wildly gesticulated towards the half-zipped door of our little tent.
I pulled the zipper a little further down, and could see that there was something moving in the darkness outside. I could hear our metal dinner plates rattling on the rocks around the fire. I ooched a little bit forward to get a better view.
It was a bear!
In my softest whisper, I reported the news, then we froze, barely breathing, and lay as still as Egyptian mummies before eventually dozing off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning with a start, dick still in Jessica, so I pumped her to life until we both came, knowing all the while that the wide-eyed, grimacing Cindy was clearly already awake.
"Don't you guys ever get enough sex?" bitched Cindy.
"Don't you ever just pretend to be asleep?" I asked.
She reminded me that she had tried to warn us about the bear; I reminded her that we were trying to fuck at the time.
I made my way over to the remains of the fire, investigating the evidence left by our nocturnal visitor. He had probably been attracted by the odor of the dinner plates, though we had eaten every morsel of food on them and wiped them clean. Bears have an even keener sense of smell than bloodhounds, so he'd apparently smelled the faint odor still on the plates. By the size of this one's tracks, he was definitely a big boy.
I got more water, and we packed up. I slipped off my running shoes, which I always brought along to pad around camp in, and went to put on my hiking boots. I'd left them on the rocks by the fire to dry out from the dousing in the creek the day before.
Well, the bear had pushed them into the embers, and they were so hot I could not even touch them. Moreover, once they cooled, they had shrunk from a size 11 to about an 8, and my feet would not even begin to go inside them.
Cindy always took issue with all the equipment, like the shoes, that I stuffed into my backpack, making it weigh 70 to 80 pounds. That always pissed me off, for it was I and not she, who carried the pack. Further, I carried the tent (the single heaviest item), most of the food, plus two gallons (16 pounds) of drinking water, all of which benefited her as well as Jessica and me.
It's a damn good thing I had those running shoes, because I would have never made it down the trail of sharp rocks in sock feet without serious injury. I wore the running shoes completely out—into tattered shreds—hiking down the mountainside, which, of course, did not prevent Jessica and I from sucking and fucking a couple more times along the way.
We could "bear" just about any adversity in those days.