"Where do you go on the first Saturday of each month?" I quizzed Sandra. "It seems to me that you've been vanishing on those days for the last year or so."
Sandra laughed. "It's no big secret. I go hiking with a group each month. We take little used trails to the top of a mountain, enjoying the peace and scenery."
"Sounds like fun," I said. "Any objection to me coming on your next excursion?"
"No problems." Sandra said. Then she added with a smirk, "Did I mention that we hike in the nude?"
I just looked at her for a moment before saying "Nude?" in a very small voice.
"Yes. Nude. It means without clothing, but we do tend to wear sock and sandals, of course."
"Of course," I muttered. "I can see where those mountain tracks could be hard on bare feet."
Sandra was watching me, sniggering, daring me to come along. I have a big mouth at times.
"Aren't there other people around?" I asked weakly.
"Naturally. Lots of people go hiking, though we do tend to take the lesser used trails."
"But wouldn't they see you? What do they say?"
"Well it's obvious they see us if they take the same trail as us. As for what they say, generally nothing. The men are too busy looking and the women are wishing they had the nerve to do the same."
I was probably looking extremely doubtful about the propriety of hiking naked. Sandra was watching me with this big cheesy grin on her face, waiting for me to make a feeble excuse and back out. What could I do?
"OK," I said, with equal parts courage and stupidity. "I'll give it a go."
That's why I finished up at the foot of a mountain, taking my clothes off with a bunch of other idiots. Still not believing it, I set off on the hike, heading up the mountain. NAKED!
And it was fun. All the others were nude as well, so it wasn't like I stood out. We were just a friendly bunch of girls out hiking, talking amongst ourselves and having a bit of fun generally.
There was the occasional other hiker, but none of them tried to talk to us, although I will admit that they did tend to look us over pretty thoroughly. Going home afterwards, Sandra asked me what I thought of our little jaunt.
"It was fun," I honestly admitted. "I didn't really expect it to be, but everyone was so matter of fact about it that the nudity didn't matter. Although I did feel sorry for that guy who was so busy checking us out he walked off that ledge."
Sandra was totally callous where the unfortunate victim of our little walking club was concerned. "He should have kept his eye on the trail instead of on us," she said. "Anyway, I'm sure he felt a lot happier about the situation when we all gathered around him to make sure he wasn't hurt."
I had to laugh at that. The poor guy had had a blood nose and a wicked bulge in the front of his pants. I'm not sure which one distressed him more.
So, with hardly any pressure from Sandra, I joined the walking group. It was a fun way to keep fit and we could also see a bit of the country, as we always chose a different trek for or hike. No use encouraging sightseers to linger around a regular path, after all.
The next few hikes went peacefully, and I'll admit that I was getting fitter. Hiking to the top of a mountain is hard work, even if we do pick small mountains. Then came the day of my fifth hike.
The day started differently because Roger was there. In case you haven't guessed from the name, Roger was a man. Apparently he was the cousin of one of the girls, and knew about our little group and wanted to go with us.
Let me tell you, there is a big difference between stripping with some girls and stripping while you can see a man busily doing the same thing. I was feeling cagy about the whole thing, and I swore that at the first hint of an erection I was dressing and heading for home. I suspect that a number of the other girls felt the same way.
Then we were all stripped, including Roger, and no sign of an erection. There's something really annoying when a man you don't want to notice you, doesn't notice you. It's insulting. And to have no sign of an erection while surrounded by a dozen naked woman? The conclusion was obvious. Roger was gay, and effectively just another woman in male guise.
We headed off on our hike. Roger matched his pace to ours and seemed able to find time, and breath, to wind up next to every woman in our party for a little chat. When he caught up with me he turned out to be quite charming. He had an easy line of small talk and didn't make me feel self conscious about my clothes, or lack thereof. Neither did he try to flaunt his own nudity, although I was aware of it. He was really quite fit and attractive.
At the top of this particular hike we found a nice grassy area that had been set up for hikers and campers. There were a couple of other hikers already there when we arrived, but they made themselves scarce when they found a dozen chattering nudes descending on them. We're intimidating as a group. Think about it. Would you like to get into an argument with a dozen naked women?
We scattered around the grassy patch, dropped backpacks and just relaxed, swigging on our water bottles. I was sitting and looking out over the mountain. I find it hard to believe, at times, just how far you can see from the heights. Then Roger came and sat next to me.
We chatted for a while. He asked me how long I'd been doing this type of hiking and I explained that I was reasonably new at it. It turns out that this wasn't his first hike. He'd actually been with our group before on a number of occasions, but no-one had thought to mention this to me.
After a while we stopped talking and just sat, looking at the scenery and relaxing in the sun. And then he kissed me.
I wasn't expecting to be kissed. Not while nude and sitting on top of a mountain. I mean, who would? But it was quite a nice kiss, so I kissed him back.
Now you're thinking that things promptly got hot and heavy, but they didn't. We exchanged a few kisses, and they were very nice. Then we moved apart slightly, Roger winked at me, and we resumed our sitting, contemplating, pose.
I suppose I wasn't too surprised when Roger started kissing me again. I'll be honest and admit I had been hoping he would, because he was nice and his kisses stirred something a little wicked in me.
We sort of migrated from sitting, kissing, to lying down, kissing. It all seemed like a natural progression, and it was fun, harming no-one.
It also seemed perfectly natural when his hand seemed to drift down and cup my mound. He wasn't feeling me up, honestly. It just seemed to be right that he should hold me comfortably like that while we kissed.
I didn't deliberately move my legs apart to give him room and ease of access. It was as though they just slowly drifted away from each other, it being the right thing to do.
I was now concentrating on Roger and his kisses, his hand was just holding me, and I swear I didn't really notice when he spread his fingers apart, moving my lips apart at the same time.
Roger didn't jump on me or anything like that. He just seemed to lean over me a little and then his erection was sliding into me, and I was accepting it and pushing up to meet it.
Lying there with him in me, we just moved gently together, rocking as one. I wasn't making love to him with my mind or my heart. My body had just taken over and merged with Roger, and was content to lie there, moving gently against him.
The kissing, I was still very much aware of, and that continued. Little kisses, longer, harder kisses and them more little kisses. Through all of the kissing our bodies rocked softly together, a natural slow rhythm that we were just going along with.
I'm not sure how long we lay there, kissing and moving together, but as the time crept past I began to become more and more aware of Roger possessing me. My attention was drifting away from his caressing lips and moving to his caressing hips, which seemed to be getting more urgent in their affections.
I found myself gasping, heat surging through me as I strained upward, trying to get closer to Roger. I was now vividly aware of his cock deep inside me, plundering and exploring, taking what I was eagerly giving.
There was no way I could have called a halt to what we were doing, even if I'd wanted to. We were lost in a mutual passion and we were now surging towards a fulfilment. Roger was now driving hard and deep, while my legs were around his waist encouraging him to take me and master me.
Then I could feel everything crashing down around me as I climaxed, frantically holding on to Roger lest it all slip away again.
Lying there, looking at the scenery, I could feel the rest of the group pointedly not noticing me or Roger. I hadn't known they could be so discreet. Except Sandra, of course. She deliberately caught my eye and winked, the bitch.
Shortly after that, we started gathering our things together to head back down the trail. Sandra wandered over to me and produced a pack of wet ones from her backpack.
"I thought you might be feeling a little sticky in all this heat," she told me.
I didn't reply but I did take the package. Something had definitely left me feeling a little sticky.
Sandra walked next to me as we headed down. I didn't know what to say. I mean would you, after putting on that sort of display in front of everyone?
"Fifteen minutes," Sandra announced after a while.
I gave her as puzzled look. "What?"
"Roger was bonking you for a good fifteen minutes," Sandra said calmly. "I was timing him."
This time the look I gave her said I couldn't believe what she was saying or that she had the nerve to say it. "WHAT?!"
"I was curious," Sandra said blithely. "The time he jumped me, he only took ten minutes. That's only the time that he was actually in you, by the way. The preliminaries don't count."
"Do you mean that not only did you time him but you expected him to seduce me?" I demanded, not really believing it.
"Well, he always seduces someone when he comes on these little jaunts," Sandra said. "We have no way of telling who, of course, until he makes his move. Usually, though, he tends to lead them aside for a little privacy. He seemed to get a bit carried away with you. He must like you."
Marvellous, isn't it. A guy decides he likes you so he seduces you and bonks you in front of a dozen people. What would he do if he didn't like you?
"How often does he come on these trips?" I asked. "I think I might sit out the next one he's on."
"No pattern to it. Sometimes he'll do three or four in a row, and then he might miss a bunch. But you'll be safe if he comes again. He always tries to pick a new girl."
Like I said, marvellous. Apparently I'm a one-hike stand. Still, I'll admit the sex was good.