Passion at Play on Midsummer's Day

This story is my submission for the Summer Lovin' Contest 2023. If you enjoy the story, please vote for it before the contest closes on September 8th.

This is my first stand-alone lesbian story. It's about chance meetings, immediate attraction, stepping outside your comfort zone, and romance. Oh, and sex, lots of very vivid and erotic sex.

PASSION AT PLAY ON MIDSUMMER'S DAY

The Appalachian Trail is a renowned long-distance hiking trail in the eastern United States, stretching over 2,100 miles (3,500 kilometers) through 14 states from Georgia to Maine.

BOBBI

"I would sell my soul for a smothered and covered at Waffle house, a hot shower, and a new razor blade to shave my pubes," I said out loud. I had been verbalizing my thoughts for the past two weeks, often unfiltered. But that's what happens when you find yourself on a four-month summer thru-hike along the Appalachian Trail.

GPS said I was somewhere near Michaux State Forest in Cumberland, Pennsylvania. I had covered 1,227 miles since mid-April. I was making about 20 miles a day, loving the solitude, nature's beauty, and time away from the fucking Savarinos. In that time, I had learned more about myself, life, and survival in the great outdoors than most would in a lifetime.

I stopped looking at my watch weeks ago. The only thing I needed to pay attention to was the calendar, as I had to be back in Boston by late September to finish writing this cookbook. My trek on the trail would inspire everything in the book, including foraging wild food, creating hearty meals from nothing, and sustainability. I had made several great finds, and my notebook overflowed with ideas.

But for now, all I could think about were those damned waffles. My stomach growled. I was hungry a lot on this trek, and while I didn't have a scale, I estimated I'd lost at least 15 pounds so far but replaced most with muscles in my legs and ass.

I went to my diversion tactic. The best way to not think about food was to think about sex. I loved having sex, I lived for orgasms, and I loved giving pleasure. For someone who enjoyed getting and giving, I had not thought the sex part through when I began the trek. I didn't even pack my favorite vibrator because I needed every inch of space in my backpack. What was I thinking?

To stop dwelling on waffles, I considered each encounter and tried to recall them in a row. Greg Gilletti took my virginity in an awkward encounter, and I'm still not sure he got inside me. Randy Freshone was my first blow job, Wesley Wiess was the first time I swallowed, and Andy Reddy was my first orgasm. Andy was two years older and four years more experienced. He was one of four men who cared if I orgasmed. I still send him a Christmas card, always with a picture of a big tree which was my nickname for his cock. His cards to me are always religious, so either that's a funny reply, or he found God.

Great, now I wasn't hungry, but I was horny as hell. Neither situation seemed to be solvable. Then, as if ordained by the gods, I realized I was in the middle of a vast meadow of wild blueberries. My pussy might be frustrated, but I would eat great tonight.

Using my hat as a berry bucket, I picked and picked, then took a break to sit on a rock and enjoy some of my blue treasures and the late afternoon sun. They were plump and sweet, and I jotted notes of things I could create from their goodness.

There was movement in the bushes. There were plenty of wild animals out here on the trail. Most were harmless except bears. Bears scare the shit out of me, and sitting in a field full of berries, It only now occurred to me that bears like berries. Well, there could be worse places to die.

I climbed a rock and took out my binoculars to see if one of those furry bastards was rummaging around. I looked at the movement and noticed something. It was bare, but not a bear. It was a bare ass. There, in a small clearing, was a woman squatting to pee. I couldn't see her face, and I knew I should respect her privacy, but it had been a while since I'd seen a naked ass and even longer since I had seen a woman's ass, so I watched. She finished peeing, stood up to dry her pussy with her pee rag, obviously an experienced hiker, and wow! Talk about a hairy pussy. I knew my kitty needed a shave, but this gal was sporting quite the jungle out here in the woods. I kept watching even though I knew I should not.

She looked around, spotting me on my rock, watching her.

"Sorry if you were waiting for me to take a dump; I only had to pee," she shouted.

I put the binoculars down, not embarrassed of being a voyeur but of getting caught.

"I thought you were a bear," I shouted back.

"Yeah, if you got a good look at my bush and legs, I could see where you might make that mistake. I'm Suebelle."

"Interesting name. I'm Bobbi," I replied.

"Equally unique," she responded.

I crawled down the rocky outcropping and made my way toward her.

"Which way are you headed?" I asked.

"North. You?"

"South," I replied.

"Nice to meet you, Bobbi. Nice to meet anyone."

"Same here. Hey, are you hungry? I'm thinking blueberry pancakes with a blueberry rémoulade sauce."

"OK, is there an Ihop nearby because that sounds a little too fancy for this trail."

"I'm a chef," I replied. "Correction, I was a chef, but now I write cookbooks. I'm drafting one on edible wildlife. If you want to step into my test kitchen, let's see what acorn pancakes with wild blueberries do for you."

Suebelle followed me down the trail, explaining she was a seismologist from Cal Tech. She was using this trek as an excuse to study the Appalachian Mountains, but really as a way to escape the ultra-competitive academic and research institution, which she claimed was sapping her energy. I felt like there was more to her story, but I didn't want to press.

We could hear a stream in the distance. Trekking off-trail, we found the perfect mountain creek with a shallow natural pool. A clearing to one side had a stone circle from past campers, the ideal place to make breakfast.

Suebelle gathered wood while I separated my ingredients. I carried several staple items with me, but about a month ago, I figured out how to process acorns into flour. I mixed the flour and added baking soda and vinegar, my egg substitutes.

Thirty minutes later, we were enjoying acorn pancakes. Typically, acorn flour is bitter, but the blueberries were extra sweet, and using some honey I sourced the day before, the meal was perfect. I wrote down my observation and asked Suebelle for hers.

"I love breakfast for dinner," I mentioned.

"If this is what you can cook with stuff you found on the trail, then I can only imagine what you can do in the kitchen," she remarked.

"Cooking is like chemistry. If you don't have what you need, you seek substitutes with similar qualities. There's a natural replacement for everything—herbs, bark, insects. If you can swallow it, you can cook with it. You can even use semen."

"Semen? Like ejaculation?" Suebelle asked.

"Yeah, it's protein, lots of citric acid, aminos, enzymes. Have you ever tasted it?"

"Do I swallow? Yes, but usually it just shoots down my throat, although my husband got into pulling out and giving me an unrequested facial after watching too much porn."

"That is so not cool," I replied. "Just once, I wish I could rub some guy's ejaculate in his hair and let him see what a mess it is."

While Suebelle was finishing the last of her meal, she leaned right and farted. She immediately realized what she had done and turned bright red.

"Oh, my God. I'm so embarrassed. Excuse me. I've been alone for so long that I just fart when I need to. I'm not sure I can ever go back to civil society."

"No need to apologize for bodily functions around me. At times out here, I swear, regressing into a cavewoman," I added.

"Either that or we're turning into men," she laughed.

She was amazing, so comfortable in herself, and I felt like I had known her all my life.

We compared notes on things we missed and did not miss from our everyday lives. Neither of us missed TV and the internet, and both missed fast food, even though we admitted to rarely eating it.

After dinner, we cleaned up our meal and buried anything that might attract animals.

"How often do you think about sex?" I asked, curious if it was just me who was dwelling on my lack of human intimacy

"Lately, about every hour," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I've never felt less sexy in my life, but my God, I'm itching for someone to fuck me. I'm pretty sure my standards are low right now."

"You and me both. Of course, my pussy is such a tangle of hair; I'm not sure a cock could find its way inside," I said.

Suebelle stood with a laugh.

"I don't think you can beat this."

With that, she dropped her shorts to reveal her bikini underwear. Thick black pubic hair was escaping down her thighs and over the waistband. A dark trail of black hair inched up to her navel.

"Wow. That's some treasure trail," I said, impressed and amazed.

"That part is an everyday battle. Sometimes, I shave it off; other times, I keep it. Guys seemed to like it."

"Does your husband?"

"He did. He's not in the picture these days."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,"

"No, it's okay. Let's just say this trek is part of the new me. Suebelle 2 point 0."

She looked at the excessive hair around her crotch.

"A new, very hairy me."

"We look great. Two back-to-nature pioneer women who had never heard of the word Gillette," I added.

"Could you imagine showing up for a beach blind date with all this body fur? A crotch full of wild pubes escaping wherever they can, my treasure trail, and check out the armpits."

Suebelle raised her arms to reveal thick black tufts of underarm hair.

"My Greek ancestry shows."

I raised my arms to show her the chestnut brown fur balls growing under my armpits.

"You and me both, sister. Italian grandparents."

"Okay, the meal was amazing. I think I can repay you," Suebelle said.

She scrounged in her bag and produced a bar of natural soap.

"I don't know about you, but I could take a bath. I smell like something I would not want to get within ten feet of," she said as she produced a brand new Lady Bic razor.

"That stream looks cold," I said.

She stepped out of her shorts, revealing again her panties that barely held back the cacophony of pubic hair.

She pulled up her top to reveal no bra and a pert set of medium-sized tits that hung almost to perfection.

I was impressed by her physique. Her body was toned with muscular arms, legs, and the best ass I had ever seen on a woman.

She took her long dark hair and put it up in a ponytail. With her arms back to fix her hair, I became entranced by the thick, dark tufts of hair that grew from her armpits.

While I was entranced on her armpits, she pulled down her underwear, revealing the fullest bush I had ever seen.

I felt myself getting wet. This filthy, hirsute beauty had activated my libido just by standing there glowing in her natural splendor.

She looked to her breast and pulled an errant black hair from her areola with a flinch.

"It grows everywhere!" she proclaimed.

"You should see my ass!" I replied.

"Well, show me," she said with a laugh.

I quickly dropped my shorts and underwear. Suebelle studied my full bush with an impressive smile.

Without hesitation, I pulled off my top to reveal my breasts. They were larger than Suebelle's and punctuated by large brownish areolas. I could see her looking by not trying to look.

"When I was young, the large areolas were embarrassing, and I was the butt of some mean girls' jokes. But I found my looks in high school, and when I became sexually active, men loved them."

"Well, so do I," she said with a wink. "Shall we?"

She held out her hand, and we awkwardly stepped over the slippery rocks into the chilly mountain stream.

"Oh, shit, that's cold," Suebelle declared as our nipples went rock hard in unison.

"There is only one way to do this," I declared.

With that, we jumped into the deeper part of the creek pool and let the water cover us. The feeling was shocking and refreshing as the moving water cleaned our skin.

I reached down, pulled a hand full of sand, and began to scrub my arms.

Suebelle held out the soap bar and began to lather herself up. She did her arms and legs, then lifted each breast to clean around it. I noticed two small scars under each breast.

"How dirt gets under my tits, I'll never know."

She handed me the bar, and I also began to lather up. We traded the soap back and forth, cleaning under our arms, pussies, legs, and tits.

"Can you get my back?" she asked. "I feel like there's an alien landscape back there."

I rubbed the soap up and down her back, smearing on the occasional handful of clean sand to scrub off days of trail dust.

I noticed a line of dirt below her hips where the backpack belt had been hugging her. Moving the soap lower, I gently cleaned just above the top of Suebelle's round ass.

"I have dirt in so far up my asscrack. I swear it's in places I didn't know existed," she said.

I could tell she was enjoying my scrubbing and leaned forward slightly to enjoy the touch and allow me better access.

"My God, how are you this fit?" I asked.

"I wasn't for a long time, but I had some issues that yoga and CrossFit helped put behind me."

She bent a little further, and her muscular ass flared even more, distracting me. I tried to maneuver closer to study the beauty of her sculpted physique and stepped into a deep creek pocket, causing me to slip. My hand and the soap pushed down the crack of Suebelle's ass as I fell.

We both landed in the frigid water only to see the bar of soap drifting away in the fast current. We leaped to save the precious bath product lest it be swept downstream and gone forever.

Suebelle athletically dove and grabbed the soap bar before it went into the rapids. I came down on her, desperately attempting to help. Our bodies intertwined until we found our feet. The footing was slippery, and we held each other tight. Our breasts were pressed against each other, our thick pubic mounds connected.

Despite the chill of the water, I felt nothing but warmth from her touch. The softness of our skin pressed against each other was like hugging a pillow (she was a firm pillow, and I was semi-soft).

Something was poking into my breast; it was her nipples, hardened to a point. Mine were doing the same to her.

Suebelle laughed at our predicament but did nothing to release her grip on me. She looked so incredible with the water reflecting off her skin. I felt myself step out of my body, leaned forward without thinking about my next step, and met her mouth with mine.

That moment of our first connection was both erotic and awkward. My move was unprovoked, possibly uninvited.

I panicked, but only for a second, as Suebelle responded by putting her arms around me, pulling my body in tight, and opening her mouth slightly so her tongue could explore the warmth of my mouth. Her hand pressed my head into hers, and she lifted her muscular leg to slide it along mine in the sexiest girl move I had ever seen.

Thank God, I thought. Yes, I had kissed a girl in the past, but that was in a bar to get our dates all worked up for a good fucking. This was different; the only person getting worked up was me. Correction, myself, and this sculpted dark-haired beauty before me. I gently probed her mouth with my tongue as our gentle connection became more impassioned.

Suebelle's lips were naturally thick and plump, which gave the appearance of pouting. I moved my tongue along her lower lip, suckling it like a nipple. Her body shivered.

"I don't want to be a buzz kill and say I have cold feet, but I'm fucking freezing standing naked in this stream," Suebelle said.

I led her out of the freezing water toward our backpacks and clothing. While I opened a tarp, she unrolled a blanket. The warm midsummer sun warmed our nude bodies, and we silently prepared an outdoor bed in anticipation of what might happen next.

That break in the action was more than enough time for either of us to back out. It was as easy as making an excuse and returning to the trail. No excuses happened.

Kneeling before each other, our bodies now cleaned from weeks of dirt and sweat but still covered in thick pubic hair, we leaned into a kiss and caressed each other's bodies.

I gently pushed Suebelle to the ground, climbing atop her to continue kissing. She opened her legs, and the thick patches of our pubic mounds comingled.

I slid two fingers across her pubis and then felt the warmth of her vagina instead of the chill of her skin. She groaned slightly at the touch and produced a small trickle of hot fluids that seemed to burn against my frigid fingers.

"Sorry about the cold fingers," I whispered.

I located her clit. It was large, and while it tried to hide, I could manipulate it gently, making it swell. Suebelle's reaction was to kiss me with a greater force. After exploring my mouth, she pulled back and moved her face to my breasts where my large areolas had swollen, raising into silver dollar-sized brown circles punctuated by a large, firm brown nipple that looked like it belonged on a black woman, begging to be suckled.

Suebelle sucked and probed my nipples. I could tell my large areolas intoxicated her. Male lovers always fussed over my nipples, and I was glad to see this woman was no different.

I fixated on the thick tufts of hair under her arms and wanted to taste her there. Drifting my kisses and licking upward, I buried my face in her left armpit. She was clean from the bath, and she smelled of her freshness. It had been weeks since deodorant had touched her skin, allowing it to return to its natural state with a gentle musk that nature used to summon lovers. Still damp from our bath, her pheromones were potent and hypnotic. She let out a long, low moan of pleasure. Later she told me my initial exploration of her armpit sent electric signals to her clit, and she almost came at that moment.

I knew my trek under her arm was working because soon enough, she moved from my breasts to under my arms, inhaling my love call scent, creating the same sensation in me that she was experiencing.

I finished exploring her torso and began my descent toward her vagina. I was only inches away, hovering above her belly button, which was surrounded by light hair that thickened into a treasure trail leading to her pussy. I wanted to tell her I had never gone down on a woman.

"I've never...," she began.

I put a finger to her lips to stop her.

It was evident by our awkwardness we were both new at this.

"Me neither," I replied, reassuring her that any bubbling or fumbling would be mutual.

I know my own body so well. What works, what doesn't, and, with that map in mind, I proceeded on her as I hoped she might on me.

I circled her belly button with my tongue, dancing over the light hair, then followed it down as it thickened en route to the center of her sex.

My face reached her pussy, and I shook with delight. Despite being cleaned in the stream, Suebelle's damp pussy hair had a pleasurable natural odor of light fermentation and a hint of pepper.

She opened her legs, creating a pink chasm in the black forest. The thick hair extended beyond the crease of her legs and downward, hiding most of her asshole. Through the thickness, I could see her protruding perineal raphe, the ridge of skin that causes a woman's anus to have a slight protruding knot in the center of their sphincter. This is the epicenter of sensitivity. I bookmarked the spot in my mind for a later probing.

Suebelle's pussy was wide or appeared wide in contrast to the dark hair that surrounded it. Eyelash-length hairs lined her labia, but the inside was perfectly hairless and moist. Standing guard over this damp kingdom was a large clit, so prominent in size that it resembled a penis only in shape.