Tramping

"Are you okay, Sarah?" he shouted over the din of the falls. "Do you need me to…"

Dim, as though in another space…another time…the rest went without saying as he lay me on the ground, straddling my hips…his hands pumping rhythmically beneath my breasts. Then his mouth covered my own, and I could taste the sweet flavor of him against my tongue…his warm breath filling my body.

I gasped.

Sputtered.

A stream of tepid water drizzled from the corner of my lips as I coughed and cleared my lungs. It was good to be able to draw a deep breath again…so good. The clear air was like ambrosia, cheesecake and heady wine all combined into a rich intoxicating concoction.

Doug rolled me to my side, holding me in place with his strong hands… grasping my shoulders until my coughing subsided and I lay chilled and shivering on the ground before him.

As I looked upward I could see his face assessing my own…judging the tone his voice would take. And then he spoke, his words light-hearted, belying the troubled look in his eyes.

"Great pool," he began, a slow smile creasing his lips, "But I suggest you take your pack off next time. Come on over here," he continued, "My camp's all set up, and I've got a fire going. You need to get warm and dry out your gear."

Taking my hand in his, he braced his foot against mine and levered me upward into a standing position once more, then led the way through the trees toward his campsite. I'd only gone a few feet before my knees began to shake, a cloud of swirling black dots clouding my vision, my stomach rebelling as it spewed yet another stream of foul smelling water onto the ground before me.

I fell heavily against a tree, clinging to its comforting solidity until I felt his arms around me…lifting me…carrying me along the path…then ever so gently laying me atop his bedroll near the fire.

"You better lie still for a while," he murmured, his voice rife with concern. "I'll fix you some hot chocolate…'Milo'. But you need to get those wet clothes off in the meantime," he paused. "How're we gonna do that, Luv? Any suggestions you'd feel comfortable with?"

Vaguely, I assessed my options. There really weren't many. Either I stood up and did it myself, or I asked for help. And what would I wear then? Already Doug was spreading my spare clothing and sleeping bag over the nylon clothesline he'd strung along the edge of the clearing. I couldn't wear them…not for a while at least. Then, in a heartbeat my question was answered.

"Here," he said, his eyes scanning the wet curves of my body with more than a detached interest, "I know they won't fit, but maybe the elastic in the waist and cuffs'll help a little." And with that he placed a fleeced jogging suit on the ground beside me and turned tactfully away to resume his efforts at the clothesline.

Slowly…testing my limits, I rose to my knees, then stood upright attempting to undo the buttons that held my wet flannel shirt in place like iron padlocks. They wouldn't budge! I tugged again, almost tearing the fabric before another swirl of black dots filled my vision and I found myself unceremoniously landing on my bottom atop the sleeping bag once more.

Frustrated, I closed my eyes allowing the swirling mass to subside, then turned to my rescuer for help once again. "I…can't…get this DAMNED thing!" I gasped, my patience at an end. "I'm afraid I'm gonna need your help a second time. Could you?"

With an uncertainty that surprised me, he crossed the clearing and stood staring down, pausing as if testing his own resolve…then lowered into a deep knee-bend before me and began to struggle with the buttons of my shirt.

I trembled…my body warming in places he'd never touched as his fingers released first one and then the next of the hard, rounded buttons from their almost unshakable grip on my breasts. I swallowed…deeply…my breathing once more becoming labored as he moved slowly downward…parting the sodden fabric…peeling it from my body.

Then, laying my shirt atop a convenient rock, he wrapped his arms around my upper torso…pressing his body closely against me…reaching around behind to release the clasp of my bra.

My breasts tingled, my nipples taut and hard against the firmness of his chest. Could he feel them, I wondered? Did he know the effect his hands were having on my body? It was a moot point, for mere seconds later my bra followed my shirt on the soggy pile, my desperately distended nipples exposed to his gentle and impassioned gaze, my breasts surging against him, begging for his touch once again.

The hair-roughened knuckles of his right hand grazed the underside of my breast as he drew away. An accident I wondered, or were the gods of the forest taunting us…throwing our weak adherence to convention back in our faces?

My belt was next, its firm restraint parting…leaving me unprotected and vulnerable…open to…what? My eyelids closed…my heard pounding as I heard the soft rasp of my zipper…my jeans loosening about my hips…opening to exposing the silken fabric of my sodden panties.

Doug (were his hands shaking?) rocked back on his heels, removing my shoes and socks, and in a strange monotone began to speak. "Ya need to lay back, Luv…and lift your hips…okay?"

I nodded, then laying back atop the sleeping bag once more I placed my heels on either side of his knees and lifted my trembling hips upward into his waiting hands. It was as though the earth had suddenly come to a screeching halt…ceased to spin…to revolve. The very air itself froze in its invisible pathways as I felt him slip first one finger and then the rest beneath the waistband of my jeans…beneath the elastic of my panties.

I heard him moan…softly…almost silently as he tugged the last of my clothing downward over my hips...exposing my quivering flesh...the wet thatch of my sex...my trembling thighs.

I watched him then, my eyes taking him in, my mind tugging at the memory of him kneeling before the fire ring…his seed running hot and steaming across the stones that lined its depths…

And I wanted him.

Deep down, in some primitive, uncontrollable way that my conscious mind could never grasp, I knew that I wanted him to touch me…to run his lips across my heated flesh…to fill my body over and over with the rigid thrust of his manhood. I wanted the taste of him…the scent of him…the pounding intimacy of him to overwhelm my very being, wrenching cries of abandonment from deep within my soul. Nothing "polished"…nothing "correct"…just raw, unbridled passion flowing from every pore…like two beasts in the wilderness…drawn together by an attraction as old as time…succumbing to a primal urge that defied denial.

And he felt it too.

I knew it the moment it flashed across his eyes…the second he paused, hovering above me as he closed the sleeping bag to enfold me within…he wanted it too.

If life could be played in slow motion…if I could have preserved each heartbeat that passed between us at that moment, I think we might have become statues frozen in time, a testament to the lost but not forgotten origins of the species which spawned us. We were no longer two people bound by the conventions of society…hamstrung by years of righteous upbringing… centuries of Puritan ethic. We were here…we were now…and we would have our way…

Silently, as evening crept over us once more… the purple shadows of the trees caressing us like long-lost lovers…I reached for him. My fingers lingering brazenly on the tense jut of his sex against his jeans…my eyes warming the space between us…giving my wordless consent to whatever the night might bring.

He hesitated but a moment…a flicker in time before he rose and began to shed his clothing, dropping his shirt with focussed deliberation on the rocks by my own…his hands reaching for the buckle of his braided leather belt.

I gasped…my impatience almost tangible in the still mountain air, then whispered…"No…let me…please…"

Again I rose to my knees, this time as one who would worship…a pilgrim who has sought and found her goal…a physical presence for whom pleasure is the only objective in life. Slowly I slid the zipper downward, my lips becoming dry…my eyes hungry as I inhaled the masculine scent of his body. I trembled…my fingers slipping slowly within the aperture I'd created…my hands seeking and finding the hard, strong length of him begging for the release that only I could offer.

Exhaling loudly, I continued to strip away the last barrier between us. In awe I slowed, my vision of the night before hadn't done him justice…not at all. I'd thought him merely large…but he was massive. I'd imagined him hard, but the steely shaft that pressed demandingly against my lips was more than that...so much more.

Slowly, I closed my eyes, blocking out all sensation save that before me…and parted my lips. He smelled of soap and sex…musk and masculinity as my tongue curled around the tip of his shaft, lapping gently at the tiny dewdrops that escaped unbidden into my mouth. I cradled him between my palms…stroking, caressing as he swelled in my moist, dark recesses. Then, reaching behind to cup his firm rounded buttocks… I buried myself against him.

His fingers, strong and unerring, now wove demandingly through my hair, drawing me closer…urging his rigid member deeper and deeper into my mouth, thrusting massively into the depths of my throat. I felt my lips grind against his pubic hair, his scrotum throbbing against my chin as he drove over and over again deep within me. I moaned softly, the taste of him flowing like a small stream over my tongue now, his shaft trembling between my lips as he continued to thrust.

Then he froze.

Painfully winding his fingers into my long, red tresses he gave one final lunge deep within my throat, filling me with his thick, hot juices…flooding my being as no other man had ever done before. I lapped…gulped as he continued to gush far into my throat…swallowing all he had to offer and begging for more until finally…drained, he withdrew and stared down at me…his look of passion undimmed by the soft denial of his physical being.

Gently, he touched my face with the palm of his hand…cupping my chin…wiping the thin trickle of semen from the corner of my lips with his thumb and placing it between his own.

Ever so tenderly he lay me back against the soft down of his sleeping bag and knelt between my thighs…his hands parting me…caressing me in ways that left trails of fire in their wake. And then I felt his weight pressing me down into the soft "nest" below…his tongue exploring the dusky interiors of my mouth…his hands arousing my nipples to peaks of hard, sweet agony.

I arched my back, my hips grinding against him, urging him to fill me once more…but it was too soon. Instead he buried his lips against my throat…enticing…licking…downward until his mouth formed a perfect seal around my nipple, driving me to heights of wet, flowing madness.

"Sarah…" he murmured, his voice deep and husky, "I want to watch you."

I paused…"Watch me…watch" me? " What did he mean?

And then I knew.

There, in the dim flicker of the campfire he rose above me, and taking my hand in his, he gently licked my fingertips. "Will you do that for me, Sarah?"

I flushed. How could I respond…what could I say? No man had ever asked me to "touch" myself in his presence. And yet here, at this moment, I wanted to…I wanted to experience it all…do it all…to leave nothing wanting when the night was through.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice sounding alien to my ears. "Oh, yes…anything…anything…"

It was then he smiled, his lips curving tenderly in the dim light, and kneeling between my outstretched thighs he reached far to his right and grasped something long…and cylindrical.

A click…sharp and solitary, and then a radiating beam of light warmed the trembling thatch of my womanhood. His hand reached between us…bridging his sex and my own…laying the source of illumination between us like a symbolic joining. Then, caressing my moist curls, he pressed his thumbs deeply within…parting them…exposing my most intimate of places to his heated inspection. He paused, stroking the slippery hub of my desire once…twice with the edge of his thumb, then guided my hand between my thighs and gazed expectantly.

I hesitated, my hand trembling with the newness of it all…and then I began. Slowly I ran my finger downward…downward, to the small, tight tunnel that yearned so longingly to feel his masculine invasion. I dipped…one finger…two…deeply until I felt the wet, slippery moisture that oozed from my "source" coating my fingertips.

A groan…his?

And then, as he held my "lips" apart like the wings of a butterfly, I began to stroke…to fondle the hard, rigid extension that brought me so much pleasure.

In seconds I began to respond…the touch of my hand…the intensity of his gaze transporting me to heights beyond belief. Then, in a mad rush I felt myself slipping, sliding into a mindless swirl of sensation…my body jerking uncontrollably beneath my hand and his…my cries filling the clearing with unbridled passion as the hot rush of my cum flowed heavily against the covering below.

I moaned…thrusting my hips against his fingers…pleading in the darkness for the completion I needed so badly…and then I felt it. The hard cylindrical source of his illumination…the warm lens that enclosed it…pressing against my moist opening…entering me…filling me…bringing me the relief I craved so desperately. Again he thrust…and again until my moans filled my head with throbbing intensity…my juices flowing thick and hot against the object which penetrated my body.

The last sight I beheld as I closed my eyes, welcoming the sensations that washed over me, was the expression on his face…deep and intense…heated with the scene before him.

And then, as quickly as it had begun…it was over. In a rush, Doug tossed the flashlight in a slow arc atop the pile of clothing by the fire ring, its beam casting a crazed abstraction against the trees as his lips replaced it between my trembling thighs. His hunger was unquenchable… sucking… lapping… feasting on the sweet flow of passion that gushed without end as I moaned beneath him.

[No more, no more] my body screamed…pushed beyond endurance…my vaginal muscles clenching…grasping until they ached with an intensity I could have only imagined.

Still he persisted…my hoarse cries filling the night…my sensitive flesh pleading with him to stop…to stop…never to stop, but to continue until I could scream no longer, until I surrendered my body and soul in intimate agony beneath him.

And then I felt his hands beneath my legs…lifting them…pressing them upward against my chest as he thrust abruptly between them…his massive shaft cleaving me, plundering me as nothing else could.

My hands, now taloned weapons, clawed against the smooth surface of his back, raking long red welts into his flesh. I was a she-demon, swallowed whole by the passions that drove me…primal as I bayed my heated abandonment to the crescent moon above.

Again my climax washed over me…and again until sanity fled and my body quivered beneath his intimate assault. And then…in one quick motion I found myself on my hands and knees…my lover kneeling between the rounded orbs of my buttocks.

Reaching between my thighs he thrust his hand into my oozing slit and wet his fingers…moistening my narrower passage…pressing his thumbs inside to ready me for what was to come.

I trembled. He was so engorged…so hard…I'd never…

And then he thrust within my wet and clinging core one last time, coating himself with my moist, slippery effluent before pressing his massive knob against the tight, virginal entrance before him.

I shivered…I squirmed, but he held me fast, one hand pressing against the small of my back as the other guided his rigid tool past the narrow ring of muscle which guarded my quivering tunnel.

I screamed.

The pain…the pain!

And then he was inside of me…his heat filling me in a way I'd never experienced…his rhythm exciting me….leaving me prostrate and whimpering in abandonment before him.

Faster he thrust…harder yet, and then he circled my hips with his free hand and began to fondle the hard nub of my passion deep within my wet, dripping slit.

I cried out once more as the stars crashed about me in wild, crystalline patterns against the backs of my eyelids. Pounding…pounding…air…I couldn't breath, but yet with my own dwindling consciousness I could hear myself gasping raggedly in the clear still night. Dimly, the world began to fade…the universe spinning madly out of control… and as I felt his hot cum shoot in gushing torrents deep within my body I collapsed beneath him.

Limp.

Sated.

Drained. -----------------------------------------------

I slept deeply that night, curled in my lover's arms, nestled against his chest under a canopy of stars. Twice more we woke, reveling in each other's nearness…touching and exploring as only lovers can…until finally the warm glow of dawn peeked over the eastern horizon and we began to stir.

I smiled as his fingers once again traced the outline of my breast against the thin contours of the sleeping bag. He should have it memorized by now, I thought, reveling in the tingle that had so rapidly become a part of our budding relationship.

"We need to get a move on, Sarah," he murmured into my hair. "I don't want to move…not ever, but I have no choice. We have a long tramp ahead of us today, and I have friends meeting me at the top of the track…at Woods Canyon this afternoon to drive me back to the trailhead where I left my car. How're you planning on getting back?" he questioned, his lips leaving a wet trail along my collarbone.

"Tramp?" I smiled, the connotation raising a slow flush along my cheeks. "'Hike', you mean? I'm meeting the Mogollon Stage…the bus at 4pm…so I need to get going too."

Scowling, he checked his watch. "Nine hours," he calculated grimly. "Not very long. Why don't you repack your gear while I make coffee. You're food's all ruined, but I have enough scroggin to see us both through, I think."

"Scroggin?" I laughed. "Sounds disgusting…what is it?"

He smiled once again. "Scroggin? It's a mix…like nuts, berries, chocolate, dried fruit…"

"Gorp…trail mix!" I laughed, the ingredients sounding more and more familiar. "I guess 'gorp' doesn't sound any more appetizing than 'scroggin' though, does it. Good thing the food doesn't taste like it sounds."

In no time we'd stowed our gear and begun the steep trek up the mountainside toward the crest of the escarpment. The air began to thin as we made our ascent, the beauty embracing us, and soon we found ourselves pausing along the path to take an extra breath and regain our bearings.

"So where are you from, anyway?" I asked, feeling foolish that I knew this man so intimately, and yet knew nothing of him at all.

"New Zealand," he answered briefly. "Different towns. I've been shifting a lot lately. Needed to stretch my legs a bit. And where do you hail from?"

I smiled, his bright, friendly accent washing over me like warm spring sunshine. "Most recently from Tempe…just south of here." I replied. "I'm at the college… Arizona State. I guess I needed to stretch my legs this week-end as well."

"I'm glad I met you, Sarah," he replied, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "Ironic, isn't it…the two of us meeting here…in the middle of nowhere when we started out from places so far apart?"

Sadly, I lowered my lashes, knowing what had grown between us had been sudden…like lightening…but like lightening it had been just as devastatingly powerful…and would end just as quickly.

"Yes…it is," I agreed, my voice small and dwindling…surrounded by silence. In a mere four hours we'd be saying good-bye, our "relationship" over…a passing memory to warm the chilly days beyond.

His silence spoke volumes as he focussed his gaze on the horizon… searching for words that couldn't come…solutions that didn't exist. The realities that defined our everyday lives were far away, waiting impatiently for our return. And then, almost by tacit agreement we brightened. We still had four hours…four hours to last a lifetime. To waste them would be a shame.