Heather's Exquisite Map of Tassie

"Lie back," he said, like an instruction or perhaps an order. Heather did as he wished and he caressed her inner thigh, ever so lightly, all the way to her sticky muff. He was going completely by feel, with very little ambient light penetrating the tent, his fingers finding her wet slit in the dark. He pushed his thumb onto her clit, gently at first, rubbing little circles around and around, pleasuring her eight-thousand or so nerve endings housed there. She took his other hand in hers with a squeeze, and breathed in sharply when he slipped his index and middle fingers inside her. She was wet again and he wriggled his fingers and thumb in a rhythm, feeling and listening for Heather's pleasure.

Her breathing increased, as did her grip on his fingers, and so he increased the pressure on her pleasure spots. "Oh, gee, oh, yes," she breathed, holding onto him, tighter and tighter. Her back arched, using her free hand to help push her bum off the tent floor. Tim increased the pressure with his thumb, rubbing her clit up and down, side to side, circles, trying to read her pleasure rhythm.

"Oh, Oh, Oh, please, Oh." She was louder now, the steady rain outside hopefully muffling her sighs. Heather's hand gripped his with increasing tenacity and he applied more thumb pressure, pulling his other fingers up inside her, caressing her canal ridges, and she moaned with pleasure, "Ohhhh," throwing her free hand over her mouth a moment too late to dampen her noise. Tim felt her pussy muscles twitching around his fingers for thirty seconds or so while her hand entwined with his gripped hard before relaxing. "Oh, Tim," was all she whispered.

His cock was ready to go again, standing rigid between his legs. He lent in and she took his face in her hands, kissing him ferociously. He kissed back, and took her again in the centre of the tent, sliding his hard cock past her vaginal lips, into her, this time both began pumping with wild abandon. She embraced him tightly, kissing hard, fucking hard.

Tim wrapped his right arm around behind her thigh, increasing leverage, pumping his dick in her pussy hole, trying to push right up into Heather, maximising their union. They found a rhythm and once again Heather began to pant, and though she was experiencing great pleasure, almost reaching the edge, she was out of orgasms for now. "Go for it, Tim. Fuck me. Harder. Yes!"

And he did, their fucking in the tent on the rainy night was wild. It took him a while to build up this time, but eventually his pleasure reached the point of no return and he pushed everything he had into Heather, squirting more cum into her vaginal passage. Once again they breathed hard, collapsing against each other, slowly letting their bodies relax.

Eventually Tim felt his cock losing its hardness, and he kissed Heather gently before pulling out. Some of their love juice ended up on the floor of the tent, and some on their sleeping mats. They rearranged their sleeping mats and bags in the dark, discovering they'd not even thought to attempt to keep their sleeping kit off the wet tent walls whilst in their moments of passion, and unavoidably they'd also added their own wetness. But nothing too bad.

They lay side-by-side in their sleeping bags, listening to the rain tapping on the tent, and Heather whispered, "Now we know sex while camping really is fucking in tents."

Tim chuckled. "It's also very wet. My bag's wet down one side. It's a bit sticky in some spots too."

"It's Ryan's bag, isn't it?"

"Trust a Tasmanian to mention their sibling's name immediately after sex."

She gave him a gentle whack, before whispering, "G'night, Tim."

"Night, Heather."

Exhausted, they slept against each other like logs.

SUNDAY

Dawn broke to the sound of a kookaburra laughing reveille in an old gum tree on the edge of camp, while currawongs chortled to each other, both species preparing their daily ambushes on food left unattended by any camper who turned their attention away from breakfast for even a moment.

Roused by the growing avian cacophony Tim slowly opened his eyes, noting the tangled mass of messy sandy hair a hair's breadth from his face. He'd pinch himself to make sure he wasn't in some fantastic dream, but he already felt sore enough with muscles aching and pubic bone feeling like it had taken a pounding, which of course it truly did. Furthermore, his bladder ached, feeling like it could burst any moment. He did, however, note rain was no longer falling on the tent.

Now, do you know the feeling when you're warm and snug, and perhaps in a tent, maybe even with a gorgeous lover sleeping peacefully beside you, but you desperately need to relieve yourself, and its cold and wet outside? Yeah, some of you know the feeling, I'm sure of it. This was the dilemma Tim faced, delaying the inevitable as long as possible before biting the bullet. He carefully pushed his sleeping bag aside and felt the cool morning air on his skin, and with very deliberate movements in the confined space he pulled on his hiking pants, then cold wet boots without socks. Crawling through the low tent flap resulted in a surprise flow of freezing cold water flowing onto his bare back, causing him to squeal and curse.

Relieving himself on the trunk of the kookaburra's tree was, however, bliss, despite the cold air. The bush around sparkled with delicate raindrops like jewels hanging onto the foliage. He couldn't help but note the crusty dried remnants of his and Heather's sex juice all over his cock and pubic hair and decided he'd need to clean up a little with his towel and bottled water, resulting in more cold water on sensitive skin. A couple of other hikers were emerging from their tents, and Tim decided his sleeping bag next to Heather was a better place to be.

"Good morning." Heather was now facing him as he entered through the flap, her hair still a tangled mop sticking out of her sleeping bag.

"Hey. How'd ya sleep?"

"Not bad," she said with a smirk, "considering I was completely fucked last night."

Tim laughed as he removed his boots. "Yeah, I was totally rooted too. Feelin' a bit sore this morning though."

Heather simply smiled, watching him climb into his sleeping bag. Tim's face came down on his sleeping mat, close to hers, and he gazed into her big green eyes in silence. Several stray locks of hair ran down her cheek and she attempted to blow them away out the corner of her mouth. Her strands of hair flicked up and landed back where they'd been bothering her and Tim reached out and gently moved them aside, caressing her cheek at the same time, and Heather rewarded him with more smiles.

They lay there in silence for some time, gazing into each other's eyes and listening to the sounds of people preparing for the day's bushwalk. "I hope we didn't make too much noise last night," Tim whispered.

"Unlikely anyone heard over the sound of the rain and wind in the trees," Heather replied with a little grin. "But who knows? Perhaps someone overheard our nocturnal activities. I think I was a bit loud." She adjusted herself, pushing the bag down a little, revealing her shoulders, arms and the top of her back.

Tim raised himself on his elbow, admiring her tattooed upper arms, and the top of her map of Van Diemen's Land on its tattered scroll. He reached out and pulled her bag halfway down her back, exposing the map in its entirety. It wasn't much larger than two hands wide, and perhaps three hands deep. The tattooist was certainly an incredible artist, drawing the map-scroll in exquisite detail, including some shadow relief of mountain ranges in the style of a nineteenth century map. The coastline was rugged, depicting many inlets, bays, some prominent rivers, and several offshore islands.

Tim traced his finger along the north coast, over the long estuary of the River Tamar, then gently down the east coast to the heavily indented Tasman Peninsular, Storm Bay and Derwent Estuary, then further south past the long stretch of Bruny Island to South Cape, and up the rugged west coast, past the long inlet of Macquarie Harbour, arriving where he started in the north west. He noticed the goose-bumps form on Heather's skin from his touch. "It's beautiful. When did you get this?"

Heather smiled. "When I was twenty. It's based on an old map Dad gave me to remember home when I left.

"Must have taken a while. It's, ah, exquisite."

"It took a few sessions before it was done. Hurt like buggery, but I knew the tattoo artist and she did a great job. She's one of the best in the business."

Tim traced his finger down her map in the approximate location of the Overland Track. He'd spent some time familiarising himself with the route from the maps Heather sent Ryan, so he knew roughly where they were. "Well, at least if we get lost we have a map."

"You do seem to know your way around a map of Tassie," Heather said with a smirk. Somehow her comment seemed crass in the moment, yet he smiled as he shook his head in mock derision. She sat up cross legged, her head crouched below the tent's apex, and gave him a long gentle kiss. He kissed back, but after a while she disengaged, again with a smile, and despite her hardening nipples, she said, "Come on, we have to mount Tassie's tallest summit today. Plus, I'm busting to pee."

People were up and about, drying wet gear and shaking off wet tents. Some were cooking, while others were already walking past the tents with loaded rucksacks to continue along the track. Tim cooked breakfast oats while Heather hung their sleeping bags over a rope she'd strung between two trees. "Probably won't dry completely, but they're not too bad anyhow."

They shook the water off the tents and began to fold each into its sack when Anita, Kathy and Antonio walked by. The two groups gave a wave and Kathy raised her eyebrows and smiled at Tim. He wondered if she somehow knew about the previous night's adventure, finding Kathy's perceptiveness disconcerting.

They left camp later than most, walking the long incline to Pelion Gap under a blue sky with the occasional white cloud flying rapidly over, pushed along by a cool wind blowing from the south-west. Tim savoured the delicious oxygen filling his lungs with every breath, putting one foot in front of the other and watching Heather's legs in front of him. They chatted, but there was no further discussion about the developments in their relationship. However, he couldn't take the thought of their sexual activities out of his mind. Holy shit, he thought, we didn't use any protection and right now my sperm is swimming inside her! He couldn't push these thoughts from his mind, and the knowledge his swimmers were inside Heather was thrilling, so he decided there was no point in worrying about the lack of birth control at this point in time. What ever happened would happen.

They reached the track junction at the gap by mid-morning. Many rucksacks were discarded around the little platform, left there by walkers who'd climbed the mountains either side of the gap unencumbered by their heavy loads. Dropping their rucksacks and grabbing a water bottle each, they tied their polar fleece jackets around their waists and began to ascend the track up Mount Ossa. The track wound its way up over the ubiquitous brown dolerite boulders of this part of the world, many stained with patches of orange and green lichen. They passed several hikers who were on the way back down, most greeting them with a friendly "Hello" or "G'day."

They ran into Anita and Kathy on the summit plateau, who greeted them cheerfully. Antonio was standing on the edge of a high cliff, looking into the valley below. "He'll be a temporary citizen of this world if he's not careful," Heather noted.

As if he knew she were talking about him, he turned and waved as he walked over, beaming. "Ciao! Isn't this simply magnifico," he said, spreading his hands wide. When Antonio spoke to Heather, he was still unaware or unconcerned about encroaching on her personal space, causing her to step back slightly. Tim noticed he was the same with Anita, yet Kathy managed to avoid the attention now.

"Sure is," Heather said. "It's stunning."

"Last night the hut was cosy and warm," Antonio said. "How did your little tents go with all the rain?"

"Yeah, the tent was fine," Heather replied.

"Got a little bit wet from the sleeping bag against the tent wall, but generally kept us dry, no worries," Tim added.

The European trio said their goodbyes, and as they walked off Kathy whispered to Tim, "We have a bet going about Heather and yerself. Tony doesn't think you have a chance and Anita is still hedging her bets each way, but I think I've already won." She gave him a smile and a wink before turning and heading down the mountain side after her companions.

"What was that all about?" Heather asked once Kathy was out of earshot. "You still flirting with her?"

Tim laughed, noting Heather actually looked jealous. "Sounds like you're jealous. Irish girl cutting your grass."

"Touché, Tim. Maybe I am a little jealous. But I do think we both gave the game away."

"How so?" Tim was even more curious how Kathy knew he and Heather were now lovers.

"We both used the singular, tent, not plural, tents. I think she picked up on it. Also, I told her to keep her hands off ya cos I was going to fuck your brains out."

"Seriously?"

Heather giggled and gave him a sly smile, but without answering she turned and walked on across the summit. He followed her with his own smile, unsure if Heather was serious or not.

About fifteen or more other walkers shared the rocky summit of Tasmania's highest peak, several climbing the boulder tor marking the highest point which sat one-thousand-six-hundred-and-seventeen metres above sea-level. Judging by accents and languages spoken at least half the hikers were visitors to Australia, such as the two Germans, Javier the Chilean, plus the Chinese students. The rest were Australian, with most people smiling and saying things in greeting like, "Ripper of a day," or "Ya wouldn't be dead for quids, would ya, cobber."

Tim looked about the peak, making the observation, "I think it's great all these people are experiencing this beautiful walk, and everyone's so friendly. But it's also amazing how we're never alone out here, even this far from civilisation."

"You want some alone time out here?" Heather replied. "Or did you mean some alone time with me?"

"Nah. Why would I want to be alone with you? Last night you mauled me."

"I mauled you? I feel like I was the one who was mauled. My bits are sore today."

"You loved it though, didn't ya."

She hopped up onto a boulder, looking across the myriad of craggy peaks and steep valleys in every direction, as far as the eye could see. "I enjoyed last night very much. But I'm also enjoying your company. You're a pleasant surprise."

Tim hopped up onto an adjoining boulder, casting his eye over the jagged mountains. He turned and caught her eye. "I'm glad you invited me along. This place is beautiful. And well, if you don't mind me saying, you're beautiful too."

Heather half-smiled back with only the left side of her mouth curling up, as if embarrassed. "Nah, I think you must be talking about someone else."

"It's true. Anyway, just sayin'. Take it or leave it. I'm going to climb the actual peak." He hopped off the boulder, avoiding some large cracks between the rock columns and made his way over to the summit tor, nimbly climbing to the top and spreading his hands wide. "I'm the king of the world!"

Heather looked up at him, and despite her cap's brim, she was shielding her eyes from the sun's glare. "Right now you're the highest person standing on the ground in this state."

"Come and join me. We'll get high together."

Heather joined him on the summit tor, balancing precariously on the rock and throwing her arm around Tim with a squeeze, perhaps for more than just balance. Tim squeezed back with one arm, and held the compact camera out in the other, taking a photo.

They looked at each other and Tim grinned, whispering in a poor Italian accent, "You're magnifico."

Heather looked down and whispered, "Stop it." But Tim gave her a gentle kiss, capturing the moment in several photographs. They kissed till they almost lost balance, and so retreated off the tor, lest they fall.

"I'll have to download these photos and wipe them from the card before I give Ryan his camera back," Tim said, going through the photos of Heather and his smooching.

"Yeah, he's gonna get a shock if he finds out about you and me."

"I guess he'll be jealous," Tim said, completely deadpan.

"You bloody mainlanders," she laughed. "Anyway, from the sounds of the way you two carry on maybe he'll be jealous because you're with me and not with him."

Tim wondered if there was more to her suggestion about him being 'with' her. Is she implying we're together? He still felt he was punching well above his weight with Heather, because she was a beautiful, tough independent woman with way more life experience than himself. She was also three-and-a-half years older and potentially at a different stage in life than he was. Then there was the unavoidable fact they lived several thousand kilometres apart, so he wasn't quite sure where all this was going to lead.

But he'd also made a bold move the previous evening and it'd paid off, and now he was seeing Heather's soft side. Almost every time he looked in her direction she smiled her gorgeous heart-shaped smile, which wasn't usually on display when she wasn't engaging with him. And they were getting into the habit of making each other laugh.

They explored more of the mountain's summit, and eventually Tim noticed all the other bushwalkers were no longer around. "Hey, check it out. We're alone."

"So we are. All alone on top of Tassie." They sat side-by-side in the lee of a rock where the sun warmed them but protected from the cold south-westerly wind, with their legs inadvertently resting against each other. In silence they ate muesli bars and looked into the distance where white clouds formed over peaks on the horizon.

When Heather rested her head against his shoulder, Tim turned and kissed her forehead. Which resulted in more smiles, then a gentle kiss on the lips, which grew into deeper and increasingly vigorous passionate kisses. His hands gently massaged her boobs, her nipples poking through her black hiking shirt. She was forceful with her tongue against his, and their lips sucked each other hard. She moved a hand to his back, pulling him towards her, and his hand wandered from her breast down to her pants, and within a moment he'd unclipped her belt strap.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, smiling all the same.

"Hopefully pleasuring you, if you don't mind."

"I definitely don't mind." They broke their kiss and he moved down her body, pulling her pants down enough to reveal her wild dark blond pubic triangle. "I haven't shaved in a while, sorry. I hadn't considered I might get lucky this trip. I expected I might get lucky again today though, so washed it with cold water this morning."

"That's okay. You have two exquisite maps of Tassie. Though, this one's a bit more wild and bushy than your back tattoo."

"Stop it, please." Yet she still laughed.

Her outer labial lips were swollen with excitement and meaty, with her inner labial folds protruding slightly through her hair, and he ran his tongue over them, all the way to her clitoral hood, at which point she shifted her bum on the rock, laying her head back a little. His tongue caressed back down her inner lips, tasting her salty wetness flowing. Kissing her cunt gently, in the way he'd kiss her mouth, he moved his tongue around her vulval vestibule, moving back up her folds to her clit, caressing it tenderly. She shifted again, putting her hand firmly on his back, and he flattened his tongue, pushing down and moving around.