The Long Ridge

Out of the wind it was warm enough to strip again, and even two-person lightweight tents are not generous in the size stakes. We didn't need an excuse to snuggle up naked together, but we took it anyway, my breasts pressing against him, one thigh thrown over his to pull him close, his cock teasing my pussy.

Day 2

I woke next morning, needing only a fraction of a second to remember why I might have fingertips stroking my back. My leg was still or again thrown over his, his morning erection between my thighs. One of my arms was loosely tucked round him. My tummy was tingling and I felt damp in my crotch. I'd obviously snuggled nice and close in my sleep – a good sign, since it showed I trusted him instinctively. No complaints so far. I squeezed leg and arm and snuggled closer to his warm body before opening my eyes. Pale blue ones gazed into mine, inches away. I squeezed again. He leaned forward to kiss me, one hand going behind my head to stroke my hair. I responded sleepily. I purred, feeling very good.

'Any regrets?' he murmured.

About last night? Not likely. 'Mm-mm.' I shook my head.

'Good.' He kissed me again, long and slow.

I was still half asleep, but becoming more alert every second. The feel of his cock, already hard between my legs, was turning me on. I wasn't sure if I was up to any more screwing as thorough as he'd given me last night, but it seemed a shame to waste a hard-on like that. I found myself beginning to respond, using one hand to stroke his hair. I pulled out the hair band to do it properly. It was very fine, but a bit knotted. I used my fingers to tease it apart. I like playing with long hair, but rarely get the chance. My friend Seonaidh lets me brush hers sometimes, but that's about it. I decided to use both hands, since he seemed to be enjoying it, burying his face next to my chest to get as close as possible. His hands began to roam my body. I pulled my leg up towards my chest, draping the calf over his back so he could get at my thigh. He accepted the invitation and began to trace the muscles. His other hand, the one that was almost underneath him as he lay sideways on to me, was bent to play with my breasts. I had thought that he was a breasts man, but he obviously liked playing with my legs.

The position had the added advantage of keeping his cock pressing against my crotch. I was getting wetter all the time. With the blanket to keep us warm I couldn't see much, but I was getting plenty of sensation. I wanted that cock in me again, so I abandoned his hair and moved one hand down to rub his cock over my cunt lips. I parted them and used his tip to stimulate myself. He squirmed to give me a better angle, moving on to his side and pulling his head back to look at me, then pulling my leg up further.

Being fit and supple has its advantages in bed. I got him wetter by letting him partway inside, then pulling him out. I wanted to play and I wanted it to last. It felt good stroking his cock with my juices and using his cock to rub me - and he was obviously enjoying it. I moved it to my clit. It was a bit clumsy like this, rather than using something designed for the job like a finger or his tongue, but the fact that it was his cock was incredibly stimulating. I rubbed gently, stroking over and round my hard little bud while watching the expression on his face. Some faces are more expressive of emotion than others, and Neil's falls firmly into the first category. The fact that he was enjoying this was also turning me on. I let myself climax, a small orgasm that rippled through my body gently. He watched the pleasure on my face until it subsided.

'Nice?'

'Mm-hm.'

'Want me inside?'

'Mm-hm.' Higher pitched, demanding. I licked my lips. 'Gently, mind. I want to be able to walk today.' He grinned. I guided his cock back to my entrance and rolled over on top of him. I trusted him to be gentle, but I wanted to be in control. That way I couldn't blame him if he made me raw. I slid down on top of him, feeling him slowly slip inside. The tent was too low for me to be able to straddle him upright, so I leaned forward, giving him easy access to my breasts. He raised his head to kiss them, using both hands to explore. He was obviously again enjoying the look of my body full frontal, too. He abandoned my breasts, letting them hang near his face and moved his hands back to my bum, smearing it with my juices, helping stimulate the skin as I rode him slowly.

Then he moved his right hand round to my front again, this time to finger my clit. It was very sensitive after my first orgasm of the morning, but he was very gentle with it, circling round it as much as over it. His other hand stayed on my bum, dabbling around my cunt. I reached behind myself to feel his shaft with my fingers as it slid in and out, then cupped his balls. I'd enjoyed feeling them squirt inside me the night before and wanted to feel it again. This left our hands in the way of each other. Then he surprised me again. His fingers were wet from my body. They traced up the crack between my buttocks, and one fingertip was pushed very gently against my rear hole. I wriggled. Then he pushed the tip inside. I froze. No-one had ever done this to me before. I'd always thought it sounded a bit dirty.

'Stop?' he asked. I considered. It felt taboo. Then again, here in the hills social taboos aren't especially relevant. Social taboos when you're with a lover in private aren't relevant either. The fact that it felt a bit kinky just turned me on. I returned to riding him.

'Keep going,' I told him 'Push it all the way in, if you like.' He was slow doing it, first to one knuckle, then the next, then up to the webbing between his fingers. Women don't have the sensitive spots in their bums that men apparently do but this felt quite good, with both holes filled and my clit being carefully worked on.

'Nice?' he asked. It suddenly occurred to me that he liked to know how he was doing, and also that he seemed to be testing my responses.

'Very nice,' I told him, squeezing his cock with my cunt muscles as it reached my apex. From the expression on this face this felt good for him, too, so I kept squeezing as I rose again. It was a bit sore. 'I don't think I'm going to be up for any more of this until at least tonight, so you might as well let yourself go properly,' I told him.

'Fine, but I want to feel you going over the edge while I'm inside you.' He wriggled the finger that was up my bum, which nearly did it. My expression must have given me away, since he kept didn't stop. It felt really weird, but in a nice sort of way. I heard his breath quickening in time with mine. I beat him by a fraction of a second, leaving both of us gasping as he pumped his juices into me while my whole body went into spasm again. He took his finger from my clit first, using it to coat one nipple with my juices and then licking them off. I smiled at him. It was almost with regret that I felt him pull his other finger slowly out of my bum. He was in no position to take his cock out and I knew I preferred it where it was, whether it was starting to go soft or not.

I lay on top of him in a pleasant post-coital languor for a couple of minutes, pulling the blanket around my shoulders. Other matters eventually started to intrude. Almost hidden by the roar of the burn, there was a light hissing outside the tent. Not rain – it wasn't heavy enough. I turned my head to look at the side of the tent. Through the thin walls I could see tiny darker spots. Water. It looked like the clag was down. A meadow pipit called somewhere nearby.

'Wha' time's it?' I asked.

Neil shifted under me, reaching for the watch he'd left in the corner of the tent nearest his head. His softening cock popped out of me. Shame. 'Just before seven,' he told me. 'Just time for a nice hot bath and a full English breakfast. On the other hand, you and I will have to put up with a cold rinse in the burn to wake up and a bowl of muesli each.' He put the watch down and wrapped his arms around my back. He was proving to be as tactile as I'd hoped.

'Are we going to lie here and enjoy ourselves, or are we going for a walk?' That sounded like a hint.

'Walk, I think.' Regretfully I got off him and reached for yesterday's clothes. He did the same. We dressed quickly, before unzipping the tent and poking our heads out. It was pretty chilly. Visibility was about twenty or thirty metres. It went without saying that it would burn off to nothing in a few hours, but it would be map and compass work until then.

We grabbed that day's clothes and ran down to the burn. We washed the morning's sweat off each other and dried off quickly using yesterday's shirt and t-shirt. Hardly ideal, but it would have to do. Being wet in the hills is dangerous. Wet surfaces chill somewhere in the region of 25 times faster than dry ones, and in the hills that will kill you with hypothermia, even in summer. Towels are extra weight. We dressed quickly, then cleared Neil's tent of the sleeping gear. We dumped that in my tent for the time being and rifled the packs for food, coffee, plates, spoons and mugs. I went down to the burn again for water while Neil tied back his tent flaps and lit my gas stove. I ducked in as soon as he'd done this. He picked up the stove and wedged it between some stones at the entrance. A cold breakfast was followed up by blessedly hot coffee, while we discussed the day's route. There was no suggestion of splitting up, for which I was profoundly happy.

We took waterproofs out of our respective rucksacks and packed everything. Plastic water reservoirs were filled with peaty water from the burn; iodine tablets were added in case a sheep or deer had died upstream. A quick discussion over navigation followed, leading to me watching him take a bearing off our camping spot to the arête. He tramped off, me beside him. He counted quietly, marking off distance by paces. In theory – and in conditions like this it had better apply in practice – paces convert into time or distance. With a series of known bearings you can navigate from point to point with no landmarks except a known start.

'Two-fifty-nine, two-sixty, two-sixty-one . . . bummer!' This as he hit the main track where navigation became easier.

'You off?'

'Twenty-four paces and, um, thirty-nine seconds, to be exact.'

This is potentially lethal in cliff country, but within a reasonable margin for error here, especially when you're heading for a linear feature like a footpath. In cliff country I wouldn't even try a stunt like this in bad visibility. The maps just aren't at a good enough scale. I'd sit still in shelter and wait for the weather to clear. That's why you always carry extra food and clothing. 'Over heather,' I pointed out. Heather is springy and will tangle your feet, and will put off any distance count based on paces.

'Uh hu. I'd allowed for that,' he told me. He shrugged. 'Your turn.'

My map, like his, was folded up in a plastic case. 'Where do you put us? I asked. I leaned over my map and pointed with one corner of his compass. I lined up the edge of my compass, then the housing and lifted if off the map. Allowing for magnetic variation lined me up precisely on the slightly indistinct track up onto the ridge. Given that mountain paths meander along the line of least resistance it had been his distance that was off, not the bearing. I took the lead onto the main ridge where a tiny lochan marked where the arête joined the summit ridge. I was happy enough with that. He didn't need to ask where we were for his stretch, taking the bearing from the lochan to the next summit. We walked quietly until the clag began to thin and we could see the sun in the east trying to pierce it. Another hundred feet and we found ourselves above it.

An inversion layer is one of the most beautiful things that you'll see in the hills. If the cloud is dense enough and you find yourself in the right place you can get a brockenspectre, but I've never seen one. Still, the dark peaks of mountains poking from a sea of white cloud is a wonderful sight, and however often I've seen it I never tire of it. We stopped for several minutes, appreciating it in silence.

We unzipped our respective waterproofs, leaving them on for a while to let them dry. Neil found a large rock and pulled off his rucksack. A side pocket was opened for a plastic bottle of factor 30 sun-screen of the sort that's sold for children. I supposed with his skin colour he needed it. I took it from him and used it as an excuse to touch his face and hands. Rubbing sun cream over a day's worth of stubble on his chin was difficult, but I supposed I'd have to put up with it. There was no way he'd be carrying a razor. He then reciprocated. I helped him tie his scarf round his head; my hat was taken from one of the loops on my rucksack. Our break over we headed for the next summit.

We stopped there and sat in silence, hand in hand, for a while, enjoying the view over the tops and each other's company. Waterproofs were stuffed in rucksack pockets, the rucksacks themselves left on the ground. The sun was slowly starting to burn off the mist. Neil eventually broke the silence.

'Um. We didn't really get a chance to discuss motives for what we did last night.' He was obviously having difficulty with this, but I know enough to realise that you have to talk through your relationship regularly or it's going to end in tears. I rubbed his palm with a thumbnail encouragingly.

'You're not regretting it now?' I asked. 'I didn't exactly see you objecting at the time.'

He smiled. 'Not a chance. Making love with you was the best thing that's happened to me in a long while.' "With," I noticed, not "to". He paused, thinking. 'My self-confidence has been in a mess for ages. You made me feel really good.' There was another pause, as if he was trying to think of the best way to phrase something. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but you do that sort of thing to a lot of guys?'

This question shouldn't have surprised me. It did, but I remembered we had, after all, only just met, even if part of me felt I'd known him for years.

'That's the first time I've even tried seducing someone, if that's what you mean. No, I'm very picky about who gets their hands on my body. Would you believe you're only the second man I've allowed to get that close?' He looked at me in surprise. 'I'm not exactly inexperienced, but it's been a long time since I've met someone who can turn me on the way you do. I'm not the sort of girl who will just jump into bed for the sake of a bit of cock.' I leaned back on our rock, resting on my elbows. He turned his head to look at me.

'You know when to talk, and you know when to keep your mouth shut. I don't think I've ever met a guy like that.' I grinned, a lecherous look on my face. 'You know what your tongue is for. I've definitely never met a guy like that until you. We've got a lot in common. You know Thoreau, Emerson and Leopold. There's not many people around like that. There was no way I was going to let you get away without an effort.'

He smiled down at me. 'Even if you hadn't jumped my bones last night I don't think there was much chance of me running away. I was going to take it slow. I didn't want to scare you off.'

I could have waited, then. What the hell? I'd made a decision on the evidence at the time and there was no point regretting it. Even if everything fell apart it had done my self-confidence a world of good. He leaned back into the same position I was in. I realised if we stayed like we had been he'd either be twisting his arm uncomfortably or he'd have to let go.

'You want to start something?' I asked, looking at his face for any hint of duplicity. Rejection, I realised, still frightened me.

'I thought we already had done. We live close enough to each other to make it work. The rest is effort and personality.' He was either being honest or he was a damn good liar. Honest, I decided. So much for being single. I decided I'd changed my mind on that score. Bloody hell. I could end up spending the rest of my life with this guy, and it had come so close to not happening. Fear, relief and lust warred with each other, changing to awe as I realised my life had changed, one way or another. He was watching the expressions crossing my face. I looked across at him, his face inches away. I wanted him as close as possible.

'Come here, . . .' I admitted what my mind and body were trying to tell me. '... love.' I reached over with both hands, bringing him into my arms. He looked almost as dumbstruck as I was feeling. He lay on top of me as we kissed, deep and long, gazing into each other's eyes. My breasts and groin were aching to be touched. One hand reached for my breast, now only separated from his hand by my t-shirt. I could feel my nipples hardening again. For that matter, I could feel his cock starting to make the same demands on him. 'I want you to screw me, right here, and right now,' I whispered to him. 'Unfortunately, after what you did to me last night, that would hurt, so I think we're both going to have to wait.'

'I think we'll have plenty of time for that later,' was his response, only slightly wistful. He pushed himself up onto his hands, his legs still between mine, where they belonged. 'I'd happily ball you into semi-consciousness, but it's not worth it if you're going to be hurt. I've never deliberately hurt a woman, and I'm not about to start now. I'll settle for your company.' I could well believe his entire statement, and pulled him down again, legs and arms wrapping round him, my mouth demanding to be kissed. He smelled of fresh sweat and sun-screen. He and near total privacy in the hills with the warm sun on us were again proving to be a powerful aphrodisiac. His cock was definitely hardening again.

We came up for air, and I looked into his tender eyes. He gazed back. 'O fair and stately maid, whose eyes were kindled in the upper skies at the same torch that lighted mine; for so I must interpret still thy sweet dominion o'er my will, a sympathy divine.'

'Lovely. It sounds like Emerson, but I didn't know he wrote any love poetry. I read some of his religious stuff, and he really knew Nature. Or is it one of yours?'

'I'm not that good, but I'll accept the compliment.' His tongue brushed his upper lip, bringing a flood of warmth to my groin. 'It is Emerson. "To Eva", I think, but it's been a while since I read it. That bit stuck in my mind.'

I relaxed, letting him go. 'Let's enjoy today, shall we?' I gently bit my bottom lip, a half promise in my eyes. 'If I'm feeling up to it we can give each other another good seeing to this evening.'

We pressed on, he walking slightly awkwardly for a while. I smiled, knowing this was my fault. The sun did indeed burn off the clag by late morning, giving fabulous views over the hills all around us. We stripped down to essential clothing again as the land warmed. We walked hand in hand when we could, and took turns leading – or more to the point following – when we couldn't. I was enjoying watching the way he moved, and I'm pretty sure he was equally enjoying watching my legs when he could. I took full advantage of it. I'm usually uncomfortable having my body leched over, but Neil didn't count. He could look. He could even touch when he liked. I wanted him all over me. I found myself looking forward to the evening.

That evening found us camped by another sheltered spot near another burn. I'd originally planned to be out near the road by now, but another two or three hours in the morning should see us there. Neil's routine distractions had slowed us down. Both of us had purple fingers from blaeberry juice, too. My domestic chores would be a little rushed when I got home, but it was well worth it.

Dinner was much the same as the previous night's, but everything else was as close to perfect as I could have dreamed. We sat together afterwards, he stroking one of my naked thighs, just firmly enough for it not to be considered tickling. I spread my legs apart to let him do it, enjoying the stimulation, resting one of my hands near his groin. I could feel his cock swelling again against my wrist. I decided I wanted another seeing to, and would risk it hurting. I leaned over to kiss him, my eyes inviting. I found myself slightly shy again. I decided that what had worked last night would probably work again.