Camping with Mother's Friend

Back in 1979, before most of you readers were born, my mother roped me into a 3-day backpacking trip with her best friend from college. Both of them were nature lovers and eventually became biology teachers. My mother was a birder, and could spend hours in pursuit of a particular bird, walking through forest or just sitting quietly and watching for birds. Brenda loved wildflowers, plants in general and had a special interest in mushrooms and fungus, believe it or not. I got roped in because the women felt safer with a man around, plus I was of assistance as a pack mule, carrying extra gear. (There was no dad in the picture as my parents had been divorced for years). I didn't really mind going. I could have hit the bars with college friends, but I was into photography big time, and hoped to take a great nature photo that might get published. A magazine cover was my dream. I was obsessed with the new crop of "macro: lenses and super sharp images. I read every photo magazine and every photography book in my local library twice.

We planned for weeks, obsessing over routes, food, weight of items, how much we could carry, sleeping bag size (we bought two new ones), inflatable mattress or foam. Everything came together for our July trip into the wilds in the days before we left. Brenda lived 4 hours away and would arrive Thursday evening for our Friday morning departure. Brenda was mid-forties, pleasant and shapely, but as straight as they come. There was nothing flirtatious about her.

All went well until my mother woke Thursday morning with a "tickle" in her throat. It was "nothing, probably", and she drank some chamomile tea and got on with her day. She took a nap that afternoon, saying she felt tired. That was a bit unusual. Brenda arrived for dinner and my mother rallied, cooking a nice dinner and seeming fine. The women finished a bottle of rose' and I could hear them laughing in the living room as I filled my backpack in my bedroom. They had a habit of telling the same stories from college days-or it seemed that way to me, anyway. I ignored them, went over my list of gear and photo filters and needs and went to bed.

I heard my mother get up around 6 and flush the toilet in the adjoining bathroom. She made some curious groaning sounds and came knocking on my door in her bathroom a few minutes later, then let herself in. She looked unhappy and sat down on the side of my bed with a groan.

"I'm sick. I have a fever of 100.9 and my body is aching something awful. There's no way I can go camping."

I offered a long "awww" and wondered what we would do.

"I feel awful and I feel awful for Brenda, because she just drove 220 miles and set aside 4 days for this trip. I think you guys should just go without me."

I wasn't sure about that, and my hesitancy showed on my face.

"It's Brenda's choice, but I want you to be positive. Attitude is everything. Be the man I want you to be. You can still take your photos and enjoy the woods. Okay?"

I nodded assent, but suddenly the trip seemed a lot less fun. My mother was a positive energy person, so some of the spark went out of the trip.

I showered and dressed while my mother woke Brenda with the bad news. Mom started to make breakfast, but Brenda sent her back to bed and we ended up cooking breakfast together while discussing the trip. Brenda still wanted to go, and I put on my best face while discussing stuff. We cut back on food, tried to anticipate needs and not leave anything behind that my mother was supposed to bring in her backpack. The women had planned to share a tent, but now we only took one for the both of us. I would carry it, of course. Their tent was quite a bit bigger than mine, and weighed 3 pounds more, but I'd deal. Brenda made a disparaging remark about her lumpy old "family" sleeping bag, and mom insisted she take her new one instead.

We left my mother with a huge stash of juice, meds and magazines bedside, then headed for the mountains. We passed the 90 minute trip to the trailhead catching up on each other's lives and chit-chat about the trip. Brenda asked me if I was dating anyone and I told her that the only girl who had expressed interest was off at a college a thousand miles away and working for the summer even farther than that. I asked her about HER dating and she responded that her relationships with men were complicated. I prodded a little, got nowhere, then prodded a little more. I got way more than I asked for.

"My older brother molested me when I was eleven, and I've had trust issues with men ever since."

That statement exploded in our car like a bomb. I was stunned and could hardly think of what to say past something along the line of "I'm sorry to hear that".

"Your mom and I became very close when we were roommates, and she was the first friend I confided in about it. I wanted to hide it, but she encouraged me to get therapy and deal with it out in the open. I resisted therapy but she insisted. She was right. So now you know. Your mom is special to me for many reasons. That's just one. And now that you're an adult, maybe knowing all this can help you understand the complications of the world you're entering."

Yikes.

I asked some questions about relationships, trust, men, but it was all light stuff. A deer ran across the road in front of us, causing Brenda to break suddenly, and thankfully that changed the direction of our conversation towards nature, animals and our trip.

After a sandwich in the parking area, we hoisted backpacks and hit the trail, my least favorite part. It was a gradual uphill climb and a two hour hike to the area we had picked. My pack weighed 42 pounds on the bathroom scale and seemed to weigh more in the mountains. I sweated and slipped a time or two, and so did Brenda. I held her hand as we crossed a stream on rocks and helped her up a few steep parts of the creek bank. Funny how touch takes you from abstract to real. Brenda's body was real and it wasn't. I became slightly more aware of it when she removed her shirt. Taking off her shirt with her arms behind her made her thrust her breasts out slightly, which accentuated them. They were nice sized, but not double d's. I saw the line of her panties on her ample butt beneath her pants when behind her while she hauled herself up a steep streambank, but it was the same line that every other woman had, thus not of any particular interest. After our car conversation, I avoided thinking about anything sexy.

The hike was work. We made camp mid-afternoon after several stops to rest. I cleared the area where the tent would go of twigs and rocks, set up the tent and arranged my bedding and sleeping bag inside. Once done, I set to work on a fire ring near a big downed log that we could sit on. Brenda stowed her gear in the tent, unrolled her sleeping bag and mattress pad, got cooking stuff organized and proudly set up a triangular thing made from three green branches to hold a pot over what would be our fire.

We went for a walk, leaving our tent and closely following a path along a small stream. I wondered if our stuff would be safe, but we hadn't seen a soul since crossing paths with a couple senior citizens near the trailhead with fancy walking sticks. Our walk was interrupted every time Brenda saw anything of interest beneath a tree or in some secluded wet corner of a stream. I was more interested in photographing some fern or frog or anything colorful, but pickings were slim. I photographed a fungus or something with a white ridge while Brenda explained all about it in detail. Most of those details went in one ear and out the other. The weather was good, and we took a cookie break against a large rock warmed by the sun. We could see more forest and hills in the distance, and a sliver of valley far away. We hardly said a word to each other, but Brenda smiled and sighed contentedly. I was good with that. And hour later we headed back to camp so as to be able to cook dinner before it got dark. I started a small fire, and stood before it warming myself, even though it wasn't that cold out. Brenda did the same, and together we silently watched the colors in sky and listened to the wind slip through the pines.

Brenda had brought lasagna along, so there wasn't much to cook the first night, just warm it up a bit. A salad consisting mostly of celery sticks, carrots and a few other things doused with Italian dressing was the first course. Brenda had some apple dish ready to slow cook for dessert. And wine in a boda bag. She offered some to me, but I hadn't yet developed any great appreciation of wine, and refused any more after the first sip. I had transferred 8 ounces of vodka from a small glass bottle into a lighter weight plastic flask. I mixed a generous ounce of vodka in a metal cup with some water and lemonade powder. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. Lightweight drinker that I am, I had a mellow glow going in minutes, and relaxed against the log while Brenda arranged dinner. She seemed pretty mellow too, and smiled every time she took a sip of wine from the boda bag.

The temperature dropped slowly as the evening light faded. We ate by the fire in the dwindling light, content with life. Brenda seemed a bit nervous at the darkness around us, fingering her flashlight several times and flashing it at the trees. Turns out she is a little afraid of the dark, and confessed it openly. I laughed and teased her lightly, asking is she had brought a stuffed animal along. She said "you're my stuffed animal" and scooted next to me along the log, grabbing my knee for a minute.

I smiled and sighed, enjoying her closeness. The moment had some intimacy, no doubt helped by the wine. It wasn't much, but I was happy and all seemed well with the world.

Conversation lapsed as we leaned against each other, lost in thought for long minutes, gazing at the fire. I started to get up, saying I might need to put some more wood on the fire. Brenda said maybe we should just let it go out, as she was getting tired from the day's exertions and that bedtime wasn't far off.

I agreed, and settled back down against the log and Brenda. Brenda seemed about to say something, hesitated, then came out with it.

"Would you come with me while I go pee? I'm nervous about being alone in the dark. I know it's not rational, but it would comfort me a little knowing you were close by."

This was a new one on me.

"Ummm...sure", I replied. "No problem. Now?"

"Yes. I've been putting it off."

I stood up, pulled out my flashlight and extended my hand to Brenda, pulling her up.

Brenda giggled self-consciously as we felt our way along in the dark, then stopped in what I deemed a safe spot.

"Okay, turn around."

I did, ignoring whatever was happening behind me, thinking it was an oddly intimate moment. Almost like a married couple.

"Thanks. Thank you for being such a gentleman."

Brenda finished, prodded me slightly, putting her hand on my back as we made our way back to the tent. Brenda unzipped the tent closure and went in to grab her tooth brush while I pulled apart the dying pieces of the fire. I thought to piss on the embers to put them out, but remembered the awful smell that made when I did it years ago on a fire, and went off 30 feet to piss on the base of the tree.

Getting back to the tent and entering evoked curious thoughts. Staying in the same tent seemed like a Couples thing, but we clearly were not a couple. I felt close, but this was different. I took off my shoes and socks outside the tent, then crawled inside to get my own tooth brush. While brushing my teeth I caught sight of Brenda in the dim light of a flashlight reaching behind and underneath her tee shirt to undo her bra strap, which she then pulled off. This was kind of interesting! When I got back inside the tent I peeled off my sweatshirt and was mentally debating how to take my pants off discreetly.

"Do these sleeping bags zip together?" Brenda asked.

"Um..I'm not sure, but maybe. They should. They're identical."

"Don't you think that would be cozy? Let's try."

I was a bit flustered by that question, but managed to unzip both sleeping bags and figure out how to do it. I'm embarrassed to say how long it took me to figure it out, but I got it done.

"I'm going to take my pants off and climb in" Brenda volunteered.

"Don't peek."

"I'm doing the same, so don't you peek either" I responded. "Actually, I'll just turn out the light, then neither of us can see anything."

And we couldn't. It was black as black can get. I fumbled around and tried to get in the sleeping bag without touching Brenda, then scooted down.

An uneasy silence followed for a few seconds. We could hear each other breathing.

Brenda sighed deeply, then broke the silence.

"This is nice. Thanks for agreeing to come."

She started the sentence in a normal tone, then quickly shifted down to a whisper.

I whispered back "It IS nice. I'm sure we'll have a good time. You're good company."

Brenda reached out and took my hand.

"Thank you."

Seconds passed. I expected Brenda to let go off my hand, but she held it loosely and ran her fingers over mine and giggled.

"What's funny?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm just a little giddy...feeling the wine...feeling close to you...liking the feel of your hand...feeling a little nervous because I like the feeling of your hand...Feeling a little nervous because I don't sleep with guys. I have never spent an entire night with a man in my bed and I'm about to."

I started to respond, but she quickly interrupted.

"I don't mean we're having sex, I'm just saying I've never spent an entire night in a man's bed, nor he in mine."

"I know what you meant", I said. "I didn't take it that way. And for what it's worth, just holding your hand feels really nice. Your hand feels soft..feminine...and the fact that you want to hold my hand is...special. What you mentioned today, what happened...umm..back then, brought out my protective nature. I think about that 11-year-old girl and I want to cry."

Brenda made a sound from somewhere within that would be hard to describe, then moved to hug me. Our bodies moved awkwardly into each other, then we figured out a position and held each other in a firm hug. Nothing was said for a time, and I instinctively kissed the skin next to my lips, which was Brenda's temple. She made a sound of contentment, so I kissed her a few more times and stroked her head with my free hand.

"That's nice."

More breathing followed, just heavy breathing in the silence of the night. We hugged each other, moving our hands slightly. A full minute passed without a word.

"Mmmmm.." Brenda sighed. "I'm enjoying this. I can't tell you how nice it feels. Can we do this all night?"

"Probably not" I replied. "In a few minutes our arms will fall asleep or whatever you call it when a body part starts to go numb."

"Mmmm...want to spoon? Will that be better?"

"Sure", I responded without thinking, as Brenda turned on her side. I started to move in, then stopped.

"I...uh...I don't know if that's such a good thing" I stammered.

"Why? I think it would be nice to spoon."

"I know, but I'm...well, I don't have any control over my body, and now I'm hard. Hard and feeling a little embarrassed."

Brenda laughed, then giggled and reached behind her to pull my body to hers.

"It's okay. I know what happens. I want to be close to you."

Those words made me lightheaded. I moved my body close and in the process felt my legs brush up against smooth, womanly thighs. I took a deep breath, then another as I settled against Brenda's warm body, my mouth amidst her hair. I kissed her hair and her ears lightly and felt her body react as I did.

"Mmmm...That's so nice."

I kissed more lightly, then moved my right hand, slipping it under the bottom of Brenda's tee and across her stomach. It was not an overtly sexual thing, just a casual move to get comfortable, but I felt Brenda's stomach tighten. I held my hand motionless against her soft skin, lest she get the wrong idea.

We held that same position for minutes. I became acutely aware of Brenda's soft butt against my hardness-or my hardness against Brenda's soft butt. I was afraid to move my body, yet couldn't help small almost involuntary motions. I was trying to drink in her body, to absorb her skin through mine. Each of us made soft, contented sounds involuntarily and it felt like heaven. I broke our near motionless dance to caress Brenda's stomach lightly. She moved a hand to cover mine, which I took to mean stop, but then she kept moving her hand. I continued caressing that soft stomach in circles and heard loud breaths, the occasional sigh in response and some quiet "mmmmm" noises, almost like a sleeping baby. I brushed hair from her exposed ear and lightly kissed the soft exterior. I felt her body contract in pleasure, and kissed some more. She let out a loud moan.

"You...are...driving me crazy."

I felt her shiver and hugged her closely. As I continued my light caressing of Brenda's stomach I started to wonder about her breasts. My hands were within an inch of those glorious mounds, but I didn't have the nerve to reach any higher. Or I had the good sense NOT to. Given Brenda's past, there was no way I would force anything. She was in the driver's seat. And there would be no argument from this passenger. I never even fantasized that we'd be holding each other. Besides, I felt the unmistakable movement of her ass, a slight pressure as she pushed back against my hardness. Then I heard some words I'll remember forever:

"Can we keep it above the waist?"

"Wow!" Wonder no more. I was just given permission to a new level of heaven.

I whispered "absolutely" and held my breath as Brenda took my hand and moved it up to her breast. Her nipples were hard, yet soft and the bulk of her breast fit into my hand perfectly. She sighed, I sighed. I pulled at the nipple gently. She breathed, I breathed. I pulled the other nipple She moaned, I moaned. I ground my hardened penis into her ass without thinking, and she pushed right back. I turned her body to mine and we began a long kiss, shifting a bit to make for more comfortable contact. There was no preliminary lips only kissing. Brenda opened her mouth as we kissed, out tongues in continuous contact, sliding along, touching only the tip, then intertwining, then gently, lightly touching.

It was hard to kiss and simultaneously do justice to her breasts, but I did my best: caressing, tugging, sucking her tongue, overcome with passion and the moment. I lifted Brenda's tee shirt to kiss her breasts, forgetting I was going to let her lead the way. I let my lips graze her skin, circled her breast with kisses, kissed back and forth across her breast, then stopped and kissed a nipple then sucked it tenderly. More heaven for me. Absolute heaven. Brenda let out a moan each time I tongued a nipple and gently sucked it. I slid her tee up and she took it off completely, letting me rub my face in those soft and glorious orbs.

After a few minutes of shifting back and forth between breasts, I asked Brenda to come on top of me. Her breasts were lovely, but laying down they flattened themselves against her body. I wanted to feel their whole weight.

"On top?"

"Yes. I want to feel your breasts."

Brenda obliged and our closeness grew. I caressed her breasts with my hands, fingertips, then my face and lips. I savored those glorious tits as fervently as any man has ever done. Brenda's sighs and moans of contentment gave me even more encouragement and I suckled alternate nipples again and again. I tried caressing her breasts with my hands, but it was a bit awkward, so I let my mouth do the work.

Our bodies began a natural rubbing contact, unintentional at first, then growing. I could feel Brenda pressing her body against my hardened penis lightly. My hands instinctively went around her waist, then loosely on her pantie-clad backside. Technically it was a violation of our "above the waist" agreement, but I didn't hear any objections, so I somewhat respectfully grabbed her ass and pulled her against me while we were kissing. Brenda whimpered in passion and ground herself ever more directly-and breathlessly-against my hardened shaft.