Wilderness

When I woke the next morning to an empty tent, it was already well past our usual breakfast time but I crawled out nervously. I didn't want them to be still lying together but neither did I want to see the pair standing there with arms wrapped round each other. To my relief the only one in sight was Bret and he was washing down at the stream. As if on cue Pat emerged from the other tent and walked over to me, "I'm sorry," she said.

"What exactly are you sorry for?" I asked.

"I should have known you wouldn't accept a blanket apology," she said a faint smile flitting across her face. "All right, I'm sorry that last night must have hurt you and I'm sorry for the damage it will have done our relationship but I can't honestly say I'm sorry it happened -- how can I regret being made to feel so wonderful and being given a memory that will last for the rest of my life?"

"I can live with that -- it was my fault anyway," I managed to say, despite the pain that her words had caused.

Pat very visibly relaxed. "If it's any consolation, Bret is going back to his own route -- he doesn't think it tactful for him to hang around, so he's leaving as soon as he decently can." Nodding to where Bret was slowly returning from his ablutions she went on, "I'm doing down there to wash now, please don't start a fight while I'm gone."

I watched her walk down the slope, pausing to speak to Bret as they passed. When he drew close I could see that he was studying my face. I hoped he would just start dismantling his tent but instead he marched straight up to me. "Rather a big cock up last night," he said. I assumed he was bragging and this interpretation must have reflected in my face because he corrected with a degree of consternation, "Not me -- I mean you happening to say the wrong thing at the wrong time and dropping your wife into my lap, literally. I'm sorry that it couldn't have been very pleasant for you but, apart from the symbolic angle, there's no real harm done. She loves you a lot you know -- you're really a very lucky man." He stuck out his hand,"I hope there are no hard feelings." Ignoring the peace gesture I turned away -- his hope was in vain because I harboured a lot of hard feelings.

I busied myself dismantling the tent and packing, partly with Pat's assistance and eventually the point came where both we and he stood facing with packs on our backs. I would have liked to just turn away but Pat walked over to him. Her whole body posture indicated that she would have liked to kiss him goodbye but, after a moment's hesitation, she said something I didn't catch and merely shook his hand. As you can see my resentment at the night's events was completely centred on Bret.

We walked in silence for about quarter of an hour before Pat said quietly, "I didn't mean for it to happen you know. I admit that I fancied him a lot more than I let on but I wouldn't have let it go anywhere. But then when we fell out, I felt you were daring me and it was hard to back down. As I walked across to his tent I was so sure you'd call me back but you didn't and that made me think you couldn't be watching. If you hadn't been looking out of the tent when I looked back I could have hidden somewhere for an hour to make you suffer but as it was I either had to give in or press on. Even when I went in to his tent, I half hoped that I'd be able to talk myself out again but remembering how he looked at me and the way it made me feel, I knew that was a remote possibility. If you had called out to me during the first ten minutes I would have been out of there in a shot."

"I was a total bloody pigheaded fool and you've got nothing to blame yourself for," I told her, "Let's just forget it ever happened."

The next second Pat was in my arms and smothering me with kisses. After a moment or two, she pulled her face away and said with a happy seductive smile, "Let's walk on for another hour until he's miles away and then I think we should have a nice lie down."

We walked on engrossed in our own thoughts but with a contented feeling of togetherness. At one point Pat broke the silence to tell me, "I just wanted to say one more thing -- I'll never ever cheat on you with anybody else, I promise." Instead of answering I just squeezed her hand. Understandably I kept glancing at my watch, eager for the specified hour to be up. With the sixty minutes almost elapsed, we were faced by a sharp fall in the land. We were standing on the lip of a bank that fell about eight feet to a stream running at the base. The other bank six feet away was only a little above stream level.

Usually I'm exceedingly careful, never doing anything without fully assessing the risks first, so I'll never know why I made that stupid leap. Perhaps it was sheer exuberance at the knowledge that I was about to reclaim Pat's lovely body -- but possibly I did it because it was the kind of jump that Bret would have made without thinking. The trouble was that I hadn't allowed for the fact that the ground would be boggy. In consequence I heard a sharp crack from my leg as I landed and the next moment I was rolling on the floor in agony. I think I must have temporarily passed out from the pain because I came round to find that Pat had dragged me clear of the stream and was bathing my face, a look of panic on her face. "You've broken your leg," she said rather unnecessarily.

I knew what a mess we were in, miles and miles from anywhere with nobody knowing where we'd gone. "You've got to go for help," I told her.

Pat shook her head. "I'm not leaving you." I tried to insist, pointing out it was the only option but she instructed, "Be quiet, I'm trying to think." I couldn't argue - at that moment I wasn't thinking straight at all as waves of pain and nausea threatened to engulf me. Suddenly she jumped up, emptied her rucksack on the ground and searched feverishly through the contents until triumphantly standing up brandishing a police whistle. "Bret may be miles away but it's so quiet that he might just hear this," she explained. "If he does, with all that equipment he carries he's bound to have some way to contact the rescue services. I'm going to blow the Morse SOS every half hour and single long blasts in between and after sending the first signal, I'll light a smoky fire so he'll also have something visual to aim for." I hadn't got much faith in Pat's plan but I thought it would at least keep her occupied until I could get a grip and devise a more realistic course of action.

When not blowing the whistle Pat sat holding my hand and after a little over two hours Bret came striding quickly down the slope ahead. Pat jumped up the moment she saw him. Though a pain haze and at a distance I saw the relief on his face when he knew it was I not Pat who was the injured party.

"Thank goodness you heard," she shouted as he drew close, "Tom has broken his leg and we need you to ring the emergency services for us."

"Sorry -- no can do," he said. "When I'm out here I do equip with the latest technological aids but I think being able to easily able to bail myself out of trouble if I make a mistake would be cheating -- so I deliberately don't carry any communication device at all." With that he knelt to very gently examine my leg before announcing, "The first priority is to do something about this leg." With that he tipped the contents out of his pack and began cannibalised the framework of his tent. Glancing up at Pat I could see she was fighting back tears and I knew she had depended too much on Bret being able to summon up succour.

When he was ready Bret gave me two large swigs of Brandy then put his folded leather belt between my teeth. Then, at his signal, Pat threw herself across me to hold me down while he pulled my leg into position. The word agony is an understatement and once again I lost consciousness. I awoke to find that my leg had been efficiently splinted using the uprights from Bret's tent and from the position of the sun guessed that a couple of hours had passed. Seeing I was awake, Bret crouched by me to explain that our only hope was the re-supply helicopter but the drop point was a days hike away from our position. "I'm going to carry you," he said, "The next drop is Saturday so that gives me three days to make there it in easy stages.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you to go and then direct the helicopter to come here?" I objected.

"That's not an option," he said. "And if you're worried about being obligated to me forget it -- I'm doing this for Pat not you so feel free to keep on hating me. She won't leave you and I can't let her stay in danger. Look, there are some big animals around. They're not much danger to an active person but they have an instinct for helpless prey and I don't want Pat to be hurt or killed trying to protect you. We're doing this my way and you're in no condition to object. You need to rest now so we'll set off early tomorrow morning."

That night, from his extensive supplies Bret produced some strong sleeping pills and I did need them.

After an unbroken night Pat actually had to wake me but one glance at her face told me that she had again been well fucked. "I see that your vow of everlasting fidelity was of remarkably short duration," I said bitterly.

Pat blushed scarlet but then after a moment she took my hand and said softly, "I know. I've tried to make excuses to myself but they don't work. When I made that promise I didn't think I'd ever see Bret again and I've tried to pretend that he doesn't count because he's not 'someone else'. I also told myself that he deserved a reward for saving us and I pretended that I was entitled to some relief after all the worry but the truth is that when Bret is available I can't stop myself going with him. I love you so much but he's got an irresistible attraction."

Gritting my teeth, I squeezed her hand and told her, "Don't worry about it -- if Bret manages to save my life he will have deserved all you can give him."

Bret had used the webbing of his backpack to improvise a harness. I balanced on one leg to have this fixed round me then, as he crouched in front, I leant forward over his shoulders as the buckles were fastened. He then slowly stood up with me 'safely' fixed to his back. Pat carried the supplies which had been essentially reduced to little more than three bed rolls - there was no tent, little food and no Gaz camping stove.

It was an uncomfortable and very painful journey with my injured leg seeming to jar with every step he took. Nor was I any more comfortable in my mind - I mean how should I have felt towards someone who was making great physical exertions to save my life when I knew he was also going to spend a good portion of the night expertly fucking the woman I had hoped would be my wife?

Camp was made early afternoon with a campfire quickly started, upon which without rest Bret out to either find or kill something for us to eat. Pat and I were alone for nearly two hours but said little to each other. She did hover solicitously, frequently feeling my brow and checking my pulse but it seemed that neither of us could think of anything to say. After eating I dozed a lot and then had the help of more pills to get me through the night. Pat's bedroll had been laid out alongside mine with Bret's some way away but the next morning residual signs of sated passion on my loved one's face told that they had again spent the night together. Just at that moment our eyes met and I knew she realised what I had seen. This time she didn't blush but instead quickly looked away. I had effectively condoned her continuing to have sex with our rescuer but despite this she seemed to have become uncharacteristically shy.

Before setting off Bret produced an aid he had devised. It was effectively a stirrup for my good foot with the cord feeding over and tethering my splinted leg so it had far less freedom of movement. The effect was amazing -- I felt far less pain and this allowed me to move my weight with his motion, (as one does on a horse) which meant that he was humping far less of a dead weight.

At the end of that days trek I felt far less tired and Bret showed similar benefit but I had reservations about that. We camped within a small canyon almost like a circular quarry with one segment open. At one end there was a rock shelf sticking out and the bedrolls were laid out under this on soft sand (or dirt), as before with mine and Pat's together and Bret's some feet further along. I've got to say this now -- both Bret and Pat were very careful to observe proprieties in that, although they must have been fucking like rabbits every night, neither betrayed any sign of the relationship while I was awake. Now although deep down I was still torn apart what was happening I had developed a morbid curiosity to see it actually happening.

That night, although I no longer had a pressing need for the knockout pills, I still accepted my 'dose' but only pretended to swallow them. I already knew that they worked quite rapidly so the pretence of falling asleep did not strain my acting ability and it only took a couple of minutes simulated heavy breathing before I heard the pair of them quietly moving away from where I lay. Through half closed lids I watched them walk away holding hands and at about fifty feet distance they paused to embrace, This gave me the chance to roll over and allow my outstretched hand to quickly locate Bret's small but powerful pair of binoculars. Walking close to the canyon wall, they appeared to be in no hurry, stopping frequently to kiss but, as they were in heavy shadow, I could barely make out their shapes even with the visual aid.

For reasons of their own but much to my benefit, Bret and Pat chose to stop in an area exposed to the light of the full moon, with reflection from the chalky canyon wall increasing the illumination. They were about 200 yards away, directly across the canyon from where I lay but, with the aid of the glasses, I could see perfectly and it felt as if I only had to reach out to touch them. At some point since leaving my side Pat had shed both her shorts and bra leaving herself naked. Bret had retained his thong but it was not for long because, as soon as they stopped walking, Pat moved round to crouch in front of him and release the tie at his hip. At that point possibly it was overexcitement that caused my arm to jerk and by the time I had refocused Pat already had his cock in her mouth. Despite the fact that she had around two inches of flesh past her lips there seemed to be an unrealistic distance between her face and the rest of his body. At first I thought this had to be an optical illusion but, after a few minutes of watching her head bob enthusiastically on that rigid organ, I was forced to admit that the distance truly represented the length of his impressive weapon.

I assumed that Pat was going to take the blowjob to conclusion but she suddenly stood and I found myself witnessing the most amazing physical feat. First, under her lover's direction she moved her feet further and further apart. Then, when he was satisfied, he crouched between her spread legs to take hold of each thigh, fingers round the back and thumbs on the soft inner flesh and, unbelievably, as she aided balance with her hands on his shoulders, he rose to stand holding her level with his face. Pat then straightened her legs allowing him to start eating her as one does with a melon. Even at that distance I could clearly hear her cries of pleasure.

Eventually he started to lower her -- no doubt with his chin dripping with juice. Pat's hands moved from the crown of her lover's head to around his neck and further down her supple legs curved behind his back. Leaning back slightly from the hips, moving slowly and carefully but with unerring accuracy, Bret impaled her on the rampant prong of flesh jutting up from his groin. Then purely with the strength of his arms, he began to slide her up and down the stiff column of his impressive male organ and I wondered how she could possibly accommodate such a length or volume for, at the low point of each cycle, the bottoms her thighs momentarily rested on the top of his. I was now further impressed by his physical prowess because I've tried a 'knee-trembler' myself a time or two and know how exhausting it can quickly become. Also, in my own attempts at this sexual variation a lot of weight was of necessity taken up by a required wall but, although his back may have been touching the side of the canyon, that could only have been for balance and this was still essentially a free standing fuck. I would have expected that watching this would have torn my guts out and that I would have been consumed with raging jealousy but that was not the case. Sure enough those emotions would duly arrive but for the duration of these two scenarios I believe I was captivated by the spectacle.

I was consciously surprised at how objectively I could view the woman I hoped to marry being thoroughly fucked by another man. This was possibly due to the remoteness of watching with binocular vision but also the fact he looked so like a Greek God that it made the whole thing seem unreal. Harder to come to terms with, both then and since, are the personal aspects. From her vocalisation it was easy to know that Pat thoroughly enjoyed the experience but that is all I'm willing to allow. What did get through to me was the great bellow signifying the spilling his seed inside her -- that's when I put the binoculars down.

It was quite a while before they arrived back at the bedrolls but I was pretty sure there had been no more copulation. The whole of the canyon had a rock base and as our sleeping area was in the only soft place there was nowhere for them to lie down and as he had me to carry again next day, I doubted if he would have tired himself further with a second standing fuck.

Bret had us awake at dawn and on our way to his supply base as quickly as possible, explaining that he wasn't sure exactly when the helicopter would turn up to deliver and he didn't want it already gone when we arrived. The weather had changed overnight and the clear moonlit night of a few hours ago had been replaced by an overcast sky and thick mist. Despite the poor visibility we made brisk pace and arrived at our destination in a little over two hours. We'd hoped that as the sun got hotter it would clear the mist but if anything it got thicker and Bret got more and more concerned, muttering, "The sodding copter's never going to land in this." To complete the misery, a fine but soaking drizzle started that was to persist all day.

Bret's base camp supply tent was sturdy but small. It contained various boxes and a camp bed but no spare space and due to the inclement weather it would be unpleasant for anyone sleeping outside. We were resigned to the helicopter not arriving until the following day so with a bit of judicious rearrangement room was made for two bed rolls alongside the camp bed -- that had been allocated to me. My leg was beginning to bother me badly. The haste of the morning's travel had caused some buffeting and I suspect I'd gone too long without proper medical attention. Bret gave me some pain relief tablets but said if I could hang on until later, he had something with a morphine base that would really knock me out for the night and ensure that I got some rest.

Lying watching, as the day slowly progressed, I noticed that Pat seemed to get more and more agitated, glancing at me, then at the bed rolls followed by a peek the continuing rain outside. Twice she whispered her worries to Bret to receive his reassurance and both times she then came over to me, solicitously (if a trifle guiltily) fussing over my comfort. Eventually as nightfall approached Bret prepared me a mixture and Pat brought it to me. I was faced with a dilemma - by this time I was badly in need of the relief that the drug would bring but at the same time it seemed vital that I should witness the inevitable copulation that was to come. For some perverse reason I had a need to see my betrayal close up in all its hot and sweaty reality. In the event I decided to hedge my bets. I held the glass to my lips but didn't sip and when Pat returned to her seducer momentarily distracting his attention, I quickly lowered the glass beneath the bed and tipped somewhat more than half the contents on the floor. The remaining third I duly swallowed but only when I was sure I had an audience.