Geocaching for Clothes Ch. 02

Jennifer shaded her eyes with her free hand and made a mental note not to overlook this important item in case she ever dared to venture out so insanely nude again. She then frowned and forcefully banished the thought from her mind as she tried to reassure herself that she would never be this reckless again in the future, that this was a never-to-be-repeated one-off.

She furrowed her brow in a willful attempt to shoo the thought of any future foolishness from her mind, but found herself unable to repress the hidden awareness that she knew she couldn't forever resist her bizarre compulsion to shed her clothes in forbidden places and risky situations. Her addiction was just too strong, and she found the elixir of surrender too intoxicating. She was quietly certain that the humming between her labia would eventually prove irresistible again.

She even imagined that next time - if there were one - she would put shades in the first geocache, the necklace in the second, and shoes in the third. "That would be even more fun," she thought. "And more psychotic, too." Judging by her current state of arousal, exhilaration, and terror, she knew the "next time" might just be tomorrow. After all, Camela wouldn't be home until tomorrow evening. How long could she resist imbibing again such a powerful cocktail of titillating sensations?

She was certain that even a heroin junkie could feel no greater tug to risk everything in a headlong mad dash to replicate a feeling over and over again. She felt herself teetering in a gravitational field at the edge of a black hole of obsession, and feared that today she had crossed its event horizon and would be swallowed inexorably by the desire to be helplessly, totally, vulnerably naked almost anywhere and everywhere from now on, sucking or riding any cock within her reach. She was a moth, and she was inching ineluctably toward an irresistibly-alluring flame.

Knowing that her bare body was fully illuminated by the morning sunshine made her feel even more on display than she had previously. She stroked her nipples lightly with her fingers, enjoying the erotic thrill of it all. She like the idea of being utterly uncovered, and she basked in it even as she bathed in the mid-morning sun.

Anyone who might be lucky enough to see her from the front now would not have their view frustrated by shadows, she knew. They would see bathed in golden sunlight every contour of her tits, her pussy, her flat almost-six-pack tummy, and her serene face obscured only by the hand that shaded her eyes. She pulled her hair behind her shoulders to be certain that no part of her front would be hidden from view, should anyone be so fortunate as to suddenly come along and spy her.

She even tossed her locket over her shoulder, madly reasoning that 99.99% exposure of her flesh was insufficient to get her off. Of course, if someone did appear around the bend she would cover herself as though she were ashamed, but she would be sure to wait for a half-second to assure them a good look first. All she needed was plausible deniability so that she could credibly pretend she didn't want to be leered at by a hunky stranger.

She silently imagined that very thing happening. And what if the man whose shadow suddenly emerged from the glare of the sun were doing the same thing she was, skulking naked through the park just for the fun and exhilaration of it? In her mind's eye, their eyes would meet and they would cover themselves instantaneously with their hands, but then slowly realize that they were birds of a feather (but without the feathers, of course), that they were both enjoying the same crazy fascination with risk and nudity. They would both nervously lower their hands and walk toward one another, embrace, and then begin to kiss passionately right in the middle of the road.

She would then gently pull him by his dick into the woods a few feet, where he would pick her up, and lower her around his huge cock. Of course his dick was huge, and his pecs well-defined, and his face and hair gorgeous. This was her fantasy, no one else's. She could make him be anything that pleased her. He would stand there on his powerful legs, lifting her with his muscled arms up and down, repeatedly impaling her on his engorged phallus as she secured herself by wrapping her legs around his waist and clasping her hands behind his neck.

Soon he would fill her with his cum while their tongues explored each others' mouths. Afterwards, she would tell him of her geocaching escapade and, in her mind's eye, he would happily join her on the day's journey, stopping to make love to her after each cache was located.

Jenn shook off her silly daydream and tried to focus on the fact that she was completely exposed on a wide and rocky road. If anyone did happen upon her, it certainly wouldn't be a handsome nude man who would share her adventure. It was more likely to be a group of elderly bird-watchers who would scowl, insult her, and call the sheriff.

This knowledge quenched her libido momentarily and gave way to a greater awareness that her feet were being simultaneously punctured and heated by sharp stones. Sweat was beginning to form in her armpits and would soon run down her sides. She suddenly felt vulnerable and longed for a less exposed path down which to travel. Pushing that unrealistic wish aside, and knowing that she had long since burned any escape bridges behind her, she instead pressed on purposefully. Ten steps, stop, look and listen, three jumping jacks. Ten more steps, rinse and repeat.

She was still traveling pretty-much due east, she noted, but the compass app in her phone informed her that the next geocache lay to the northeast. Unwilling to cut through the woods where there was no defined trail, she continued down the road. Bushwhacking was inadvisable, she knew, for she would emerge scratched and bleeding. "What if I scratch my bush on a bush while bushwhacking?" she silently joked to herself. Soon, though, she would have no choice but to turn northward to reach her destination, trail or no trail.

Jenn slipped off the road a few yards to consult the online park map and see if she could find a footpath that might lead her more directly in the direction of her shoes and the waiting supply of water and sunscreen. The morning's hot sun and hotter events had left her more than a bit thirsty.

She scrutinized her GPS, then her digital trail map. She found that her current route followed a bright red dashed trail. The path was unlabeled, so she used her fingers to pinch the map smaller and smaller until she could see much of the huge park. Discerning that the name of the gravel road was typed along it a mile or two north of her current location, she zoomed in close enough to read it. Though she found it difficult to see her screen in the bright sunlight, by shading it with her hand and squinting she made out the name: South Loop Equestrian Trail. She was on a horse path! No wonder it was so much wider than Madrone Trail had been!

At that very moment, she heard the distant sound of hooves crunching on gravel, the whinny of a horse, and the unmistakable whistling of a human being. Glad she was not at this moment in the middle of the road, she retreated in terror farther into the brush and crouched on all fours behind a tree that wasn't big enough even to cover her face, let alone her body. She looked around frantically for something bigger to hide behind but, finding nothing, simply lay down on the bare ground, pressing her tits into the dirt with her face pointed away from the road. She desperately wanted to see the rider or riders pass, but reasoned that her hair was much more likely to blend into the background than her face. A jagged rock poked at her stomach, but she bit her lip to squelch the pain and remained motionless.

Seconds later the sound of the hooves had become so loud that Jenn felt certain that she was being passed at that very moment. She clenched every muscle in fear when the whistling abruptly stopped, and the sound of shuffling hooves ceased a second later. "What the..?" she heard a drawling male voice mutter.

If it were possible to become more still than still, and to lie lower than ground level, Jennifer would have managed it at that moment. Eyes open wide with panic, she nevertheless held her breath and pressed her flesh into the dusty earth as she listened for telltale signs of what this man or these people might be doing.

The snap of a twig in the direction of the road was followed by what she believed must be approaching footsteps. But could she be sure? She became furious at herself for choosing the advantage of camouflage over vision, but the die had been cast. She was definitely not going to move a single millimeter.

Suddenly, she heard a man say, "Oh my God!" as his footsteps hastened. Two seconds later she felt a strong hand on her shoulder attempting to turn her over.

She sprang to life, wrenched herself from his grasp, stood up and ran as fast as she could - which, given her bare feet and the tortuous nature of running naked through the woods was not fast at all. She was, in fact, doing nothing more than tiptoeing in a hurry, not even looking at the man to prevent him from seeing her face.

"I thought you were dead!" the man said after her angrily. "Are you okay?"

"I lost a bet!" she repeated her earlier lie to Mark over her shoulder. What else could she say? That she likes to run naked through state parks? That she's a hopeless pervert? A slut hoping to get fucked by a stranger or two or ten?

"You know there's nowhere to run, right?" he offered. "You're heading right for a campground full of people."

Jennifer froze. She knew he was right, for she had noticed the campsites on the trail map and resolved to avoid the area at all costs. She slipped behind another tree, which was really just a sapling, still with her back to the man.

"You're not going to hurt me?" Jenn begged tenuously.

"Of course not!" the man replied. "I came out here to help you! Or at least to see if you were still alive."

Jennifer dared to slowly turn around, concealing herself (barely) behind this meager excuse for a tree. It was so thin that she knew he could now see her breasts on either side, but at least her face and pussy were partially obscured. By crossing her arms across her chest, she concealed her nipples from the man, too.

He was obviously a cowboy, complete with chaps, leather vest, and 10-gallon hat. He was perhaps twenty, not bad-looking, and seemed a little slight in his build, at least for a wrangler. His horse nickered with frustration in the distance, apparently chafing at being left tied to a tree beside the road.

"Settle down, Duke!" he shouted without taking his eyes off of the girl.

"Why are you naked?" the man asked.

"I told you, I lost a bet!" she replied, exasperated at having to tell the same lie three times in a single morning. She might be an exhibitionist - even a slut or a crazy person - but she was definitely no liar.

"Oh right," he said. "You did say that. Do you need help?"

"I'm looking for someone named Polly, I think."

The shock on the man's face took her by surprise. "Did you say Polly or Paulie?" he asked tentatively.

"Polly. P-O-L-L-Y." she reiterated, glancing at her phone to be certain.

The man became pensive and looked at the ground. "That's gonna be hard. She died two years ago."

Jenn was immediately aware that she had somehow caused her would-be hero to grieve and she instantly felt guilty about it.

"So you know who Polly is?" she inquired hopefully, trying not to be insensitive.

"Of course I do. She was my mother. She ran the horse camp here forever. I took over when she died," he said.

A few pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place for Jenn, and she took advantage of the opportunity to learn more. "Look, I'm truly sorry for your loss. I really am. But I'm in a bit of a bind here, as you can see."

The man didn't reply, but turned his left palm upward as if to ask how he might help.

"Can I show you something?" she asked.

"I thought I'd already seen everything," he said, embarrassed at his lame attempt at humor.

But he was relieved when she peered from behind the tree and smiled. She confidently stepped into full view and walked toward him holding her phone out toward him.

"Now you've seen everything!" she replied playfully, delighting in the cleverness of riposte.

The man's dick stood up in his pants almost immediately at the sight, but he didn't let on. He glanced at her torso and asked in alarm, "Is that blood?"

Jenn glanced down to see that dirt had become embedded in the lipstick on her stomach and blurred the writing so as to make it unreadable. She wasn't even sure that one could tell that the reddish-brown smudges were supposed to be letters.

"No," she replied. "It's lipstick. Long story." Without explaining, she continued.

"A part of the bet is to find my clothes using GPS," she explained. "I need to go about a tenth of a mile north-northeast of here," she said, pointing in the precise direction indicated by the coordinates.

"That's got to be the horse camp," he said. "But how did you know my mother's name?"

Jenn quickly gave him a truncated explanation of geocaching, complete with the custom of assigning mysterious names and clues to each one, and concluded by showing him Irv's text in which she was instructed to proceed to "Polly's Peril."

She scrolled carefully to make certain he didn't also see the photo of her jizz-covered face sucking Mark's cock.

"So this is the person you lost the bet to?" he inquired.

"Yes," she lied again. The deception was starting to get to her. She wondered what could be so wrong with a girl that she would see nothing wrong with streaking through a public park and sucking strangers, yet feel terrible about telling a meaningless white lie. Nevertheless, she pressed on. "Can you help me find it?"

"I'm on my way there, now," he replied. "The camp opens at 10."

She glanced at her phone. The time was 9:36 AM, giving her just enough time - hopefully - to get there, retrieve her shoes, and move on before park guests might start arriving for their trail rides.

She smiled broadly and genuinely at the man. "How'd you like to give a naked girl a ride?"

"Okay," the man said cheerfully, frustrated that he could come up with nothing witty to say.

"I'm Buffy," Jenn said, offering the man a handshake, and feeling slightly remorseful that she wasn't yet ready to reveal the remainder of her moniker to him. Not yet, anyway.

"You sure are," he replied with a smile, relieved that his wits hadn't failed him again so soon. They began to walk back toward the road.

"Let me guess," she continued. "I'll bet your name is Tex."

"Not even close," he retorted. "My name is Jerald. But people call me Paulie. My middle name is Paul, but since my mother's name was Polly, everybody started calling me Paulie. We were Polly and Paulie."

When they neared the road, Paulie indicated with his right hand that Buffy should remain back out of sight while he emerged onto the road, then reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a rain jacket. He tossed it to her, saying, "Put this on."

To his surprise, she tossed it right back. The bewilderment in his eyes struck her as funny, and she couldn't help laughing.

"I can't," she replied. "It's against the rules of the bet."

Paulie, a bit nonplussed, exclaimed, "I can't be seen with a naked girl on my horse! I'll get in trouble."

"How?" she asked. "You found a bleeding naked woman in the woods and you rescued her." She crooked two fingers of each hand into quotation marks around the word "bleeding."

Paulie couldn't argue with her line of reasoning, so he unleashed Duke from the scrawny branch that had served as his makeshift hitching post. He glanced nervously in both directions. Seeing no one, he gestured for her to quickly run out and mount the horse. He gladly offered her a boost by clasping his hands together. She brushed tiny pebbles off the bottom of her left foot and stepped into his eager hands.

She lifted herself up, spreading her legs wide to give the man below the most unobstructed view of a pussy he had ever had in his life. She plopped down on the saddle and couldn't help but notice that the horn of it protruded between her legs. She found it irresistible to grasp it with both hands, and subconsciously found herself stroking it a bit before she caught herself. She then scooted forward, supposedly to allow room for her host to take his place in the saddle behind her, but enjoying the pressure exerted on her pussy lips by the horn. Paulie, busy cramming his rain slicker back into Duke's saddlebag, missed this subtle indication of just how horny his naked passenger really was.

Paulie placed his left foot in the stirrup, threw his right leg over the horse, and was immediately overjoyed to find that the smallish saddle didn't permit enough room to allow any space between the two riders. The concave nature of it served to squeeze the two of them together in a tight valley, and he prayed that she couldn't tell how hard he was against her backside. On the other hand, he had no way of knowing that she was loving the double ecstasy she enjoyed being sandwiched between his hard cock pressing on her ass and the horn of the saddle against her clit.

A minute later the two of them were sharing the saddle, the man riding happily with a pretty, naked woman in front of him between his arms (and between his legs), the woman pressed hard against the swaying saddle. Each step of the horse rubbed her most sensitive spot, making her almost delirious with lust. Before long, she could feel his cock throbbing through his pants. His breathing became slow and shallow, so she took a risk.

"Do you need both hands to drive?" she inquired.

"No, why?" Paulie replied. Without answering, she took his left hand off the reins and placed it on her nub, guiding it in slow, wet circles. Once she was confident he would continue on his own, she removed her hand from his and put it behind her to massage his shaft. Gathering a bit of courage, Paulie dared to slip his middle finger inside her, then two fingers, then - sensing no resistance - a third.

She happily adjusted her weight, braced her free hand on the saddle horn to lift herself up an inch, and leaned back with her head against his shoulder to allow him easier access. He began to vigorously finger-fuck her while she did the best she could on his dick given her precarious position and the tight space between them. With his right hand still holding the reins, he freed a couple of fingers to lightly pinch and massage her right nipple.

The stroking of Paulie's fingers, his hot, rhythmic breath on the back of her cheek, and the gentle rocking of the horse exerted an almost hypnotic effect on Jennifer. She closed her eyes and deliberately let her mind drift back to that long-ago evening on the beach in Negril. She easily conjured the memory of that stranger's cock probing her mouth, and two others' in her active hands. The recollection threatened to overtake her like a tidal wave, and she welcomed it.

Not wanting to telegraph the utter filthiness of her thoughts to Paulie, she opened her mouth only a crack so as to better recall and relive the torrid sensation, and squeezed the horn of the saddle with her right hand while still trying to stimulate the real dick behind her with the left.

They might have both come right then and there if Paulie hadn't suddenly interrupted. "Hold up, Duke," he said firmly, removing his hands from her pussy and breast while pulling gently on the reins. The horse neighed his objections and shuffled his hooves, but obediently stood fast.