Up, Down and Away!

Periodically, I moved him out of my slit and held him directly on my clit. I couldn't do that for very long as it pushed me almost to orgasm and I still wanted to prolong this.

Returning the vibrator to inside me, I began to twist it around in a spiral, all the time working my clit with a finger.

I felt my orgasm build, demanding, compelling. I gave one hard push on my button and screamed in joy as a tide of joy swept across my body.

It faded, just a little, as I lay there panting. I took a moment to turn Little Bob up to high speed before returning to my play.

I ran him over one nipple, then the other, first just brushing lightly against my little nuggets, then using a thumb to hold Bob firm against me. While I did that, I returned to stroking my G-spot with a finger and, boom, another major orgasm hit me.

It was like I was a spectator as the filming of some porn video. It was like I could just stand there and watch my torso as it bounced up and down off the grass between my head and my feet. I could hear my shouts, my screams and my whimpers as ultimate pleasure ricocheted within me from scalp to toes.

I wasn't going to let this end. I didn't care how loud I was. I didn't care about anything, provided this ecstasy could continue.

As this one ebbed just a little, I took Bob and slid him inside me, up against my G-spot. I found that I could hold him there -- hard -- while still being able to work my clit with my thumb. The other hand began twisting a nipple -- vigorously this time.

And that did it -- orgasm number three. While not as spectacular as the earlier ones, it was deeper, more rounded, fuller. And if this one was silent, it was only because I no longer had any breath left to cry out.

I was utterly drained, so amazingly satisfied. I pulled Bob out of me, turned him off and gave him another kiss. No flesh-and-blood man had ever been able to please me as much as this simple battery-operated boyfriend. No man had ever understood me so well, had ever played along with my fantasy to this degree.

I felt like I should frame Little Bob when I got home.

Exhausted, I lay there for it must have been an hour. Sometimes I dozed, sometimes I just watched the clouds or the wind in the grass. It was complete serenity. I was completely content. Not only had I just had some amazing orgasms, but the entire chase-the-clothes plan had worked perfectly.

And, yeah, there was some professional satisfaction at having had my design work well, but far more important were the emotions I'd had while watching all my 'civilized' shoot away under the rising balloon, leaving me naked and entirely dependent on catching up with it, knowing that I was until then totally exposed to anybody who had bothered to come by.

It was an entirely amazing feeling and I knew, just knew, that it would happen again.

Like the next weekend.

Eventually, gathering up my clothes and the 'deployment assembly' (can't stop being an engineer, right?) I decided not to dress heading back. This type of freedom was too rare to miss.

Making my way back to the Jeep, it occurred to me that there might be another problem. If I got focussed enough on following the balloon, I might lose track of where I was -- and where the vehicle was. That could be a real issue, for there was nobody else in a hundred miles.

OK, post-test review point -- get a GPS watch, something small and handy, capable of guiding me back to my car in a pinch.

A second point went through my mind as I walked -- helium was expensive. I was prepared to swallow the cost, given the (yippee!) results, but I knew hydrogen was cheaper. How much cheaper, I would have to check. It would also provide marginally better lift and the idea of a bigger payload was tempting, but then I remembered those federal laws limiting the weight of the package. Meh -- it would still be cheaper. The only downside was the extreme flammability of hydrogen. I would have to be supersupercareful if I didn't want to restage the Hindenburg disaster with a cast of one girl engineer / charred idiot.

I was back at the Jeep before noon. It was hot, very hot and I was grateful for the water I'd left there.

So, another point -- definitely get a canteen or something.

My only regret was that I hadn't bought a second balloon.

.

For the next while, I spent maybe every other weekend chasing my clothes across the open land. It was the best time I'd ever known, let me tell you.

I'd got the watch, bought a canteen and sling and rigged an automatic cutaway switch as a backup for the package release timers. I'd decided that hydrogen was not going to happen. Yeah, it was about half the price of helium but I had serious concerns about explosions, especially with me in my altogether.

I'd been expanding the experience however -- generally setting the timers to take longer before the releases cut in. Some of the other options -- launching at night, for instance -- more-or-less amounted to not having a clue where my clothes would be and having to hunt for them come dawn. That sort of concept might be fun in a safe, urban escape room with help at hand. In the middle of absolutely deserted wilderness, risks to life and limb were more substantial.

I kept thinking about it, though. A radio tracker, maybe?

It didn't matter and I didn't care. I was free as a bird -- bare as one, too -- for longer and longer, forcibly naked and unable to get dressed until I chased down the parachute.

I'd never been so happy. I lived from weekend to weekend. Even my office friends noticed the difference. Several of them asked me my secret. As if...

Then one day the wind took a sudden shift and dropped the parachute on top of a huge, house-sized boulder all by itself in the middle of the rangeland.

I knew where it was. I could even from time to time see the parachute fluttering on top. I just couldn't get to it.

Remember I said 'no trees'? Rocks - same-same. I hadn't thought that one through.

I sat in the shade of the damned rock for an hour, periodically getting up and walking around it. I could actually see the Jeep in the distance.

On one walk around it, I noticed a dust cloud far off on the access road, one obviously raised by an approaching vehicle of some sort.

Oh, poop! I really didn't want to get caught like this.

I thought about running back to the Jeep in time to smash a window and get access to the clothes inside. I still didn't want to foot the repair bill. And I wasn't entirely sure I could make it back there in time.

In desperation, I circled the rock again, this time noticing a couple of barely-perceptible fingerholds and one decent crack the width of a finger. Fear lent skill to hands unaccustomed to rock climbing and I shinnied up to the top like a squirrel being chased by a fox.

I lay there panting in the middle of the rock top, already hot in the mid-morning sun. It was flat and, like I said, quite large. I rolled over, feeling the rough surface on my skin, and looked for the incoming vehicle. I was just in time to see it pull up by my Jeep in the distance.

It was a long way off, but it looked to be a white crew cab -- quite possibly a Bureau vehicle. I could see it pause by my car before moving on, away from me.

I found myself both a bit scared and a bit turned on by the incident. The risk of losing my gear had of course been included in the plan -- and of course was one reason it was so exciting. That said, it was a little less thrilling when it was actually happening.

Exciting, yes. Thrilling? No so much.

I was still panting a bit as I lay there, but soon got my breath back. Looking around, it struck me that I had a magnificent view from on top of the rock. The trail of dust from the white truck was heading off to the North. Barring that disappearing presence, it was absolutely clear that I was the only human being for as far as my eyes could see.

The sun was shining brightly and I could feel the perspiration beading up on my bare skin. It was going to be a scorcher, but I didn't care. I had water and I had sunblock.

And Little Bob.

I pulled open the cloth bag, trying not to tear the parachute as I did so. Bob emerged as I unrolled my clothes.

Lying back, I stroked my pussy slowly with a fingertip. Slowly, gently, that's what this girl needed. With my other hand, I teased my nipples, twirling around them, pulling and gently twisting them. I was ready to ramp things up and turned Little Bob on.

Suddenly, I once more heard the sound of a vehicle approaching.

I poked my head just over the rim of the rock top and saw the white pickup truck coming back, a plume of dust in its wake. I pulled my head back down. Oh, poop - again!

I didn't think they would be able to see me -- the top of the boulder was maybe 15 feet off the ground and I didn't think they'd try to get up there in any case, considering the trouble I had had. Why would they? Their heading back this way had to be coincidence. In any case, I could slip on my clothes in just a second and I wasn't committing any crime by being here.

I held my breath as the truck slowed and coasted to a stop beside the rock. Two doors opened and I could hear footsteps on the gravel before the doors closed.

"Damn, but it's going to be hot today," a male voice remarked.

"Sure enough," a second man replied. "But it sure is pretty out here."

"Wonder what that woman is doing out here. Camping, maybe?"

"Well, the licence plate came up clean and she's not on any list. Free country, I guess."

"Yeah. Got the thermos?"

"Still in the truck. I'll get it."

I lay still. I apparently wasn't in any trouble, but really didn't want to explain anything to anybody.

As the two below on the ground settled in for what seemed to be a casual cup of coffee in the shade of the rock, I became aware of Little Bob, still vibrating gently in my hand.

I realized that I was as safe as one could be up here.

I grinned to myself. Never waste an opportunity!

I turned Bob up to high and ran it across one nipple, then the other. I found myself giving a low moan of enjoyment and realized that my getting vocal could blow this whole thing right out of the water.

I paused for a second and decided that would be part of the challenge. Rub one off just a few feet from a pair of cops without being caught. Perfect!

I bit my lip, took a deep breath and slowly slid Little Bob into my vagina with my left hand, moving it in and out slowly, focussing on the most sensitive area at the front. My right hand played with my boobs -- squeezing them, cupping them, pretending that one of those ever-so-masculine men two steps away had climbed up to join me and join in the fun.

Their voices below fueled my excitement.

I could feel another moan growing within me and bit it down, being as silent as I could be. Within me, a very nice orgasm was building, coming closer and closer.

I shifted Bob with my left hand to run up one lip and down the other, while at the same time focussing more and more on my anxious and waiting nipples with my right hand.

I couldn't stop myself from panting in my arousal, but opened my mouth as wide as I could in hopes of keeping the sound down.

The orgasm was so close, so very close. Usually I would stall, delay, extend the pleasure. Today however, I decided to go for it as quickly as possible. I switched Little Bob from my labia to my clit, putting two fingers inside me to work my G-spot.

That's all it took. Within seconds, I had to clap one hand over my mouth to keep from squealing. It was a wonderful orgasm, strong and full. It went on and on until I thought I would faint.

Somehow, I managed to keep from screaming.

As it faded, I turned Little Bob off and lay on top of the rock, shaking and quivering with the after-cum echoes.

I had lain there, exposed to anyone who cared to look, for about three minutes, when the two below on the ground got into their truck and left.

I almost cried in my happiness. Such was my bliss that I was almost -- almost - tempted to flag them down to say thank you.

I was simply triumphant! Not only was the solosex really good, but I felt just amazing that I had pulled the whole thing off -- from watching my clothes leave me behind, to running stark naked across God's wilderness, to finding the package, evading the cops and all the rest. So, yeah -- 'triumphant' is the right word.

I doubted it could ever happen that way again, but damn!

.

Three weeks later, things went kind of weird.

In a good way.

Sort of.

I felt the usual rush seeing my clothes skyrocket away from me. I watched the balloon drift eastwards, then suddenly shift to drifting more or less south; presumably it had risen into a different wind layer. On the ground, I changed my own course to compensate.

Checking the timer on my wristwatch, I was delighted to see, right on time, the package drop and the parachute open. It was a lot further away than it had been ever before and appeared to be drifting towards a bit of a valley, presumably containing one of the many creeks crisscrossing the area.

As I jogged towards it, it drifted out of sight, down below ground level.

The day was getting warmer and I was getting quite thirsty with all my exercise. I took a sip from the canteen.

Suddenly it hit me -- running water. Although the creeks around here were all shallow, scarcely knee-deep at most, I wasn't sure what an immersion would do to the electronic part of my Jeep key. Worse, I could see the potential for even a small stream to drag both parachute and payload away downstream for God knows how far. I started to sprint. My boobs started bouncing uncomfortably as I raced across the uneven ground and I had to hold them in my hands, which didn't make running any easier.

Eventually, I reached the edge of the valley. Those criss-crossing the area were typically at most maybe 50 yards across and 10 feet deep. Some of them I could almost jump across.

As I darted over the lip of this valley however, a number of things immediately became apparent to me.

First, this valley was much larger, much deeper than the ones I'd seen before. I was facing a 100-foot drop.

Second, the slope I now found myself on was far steeper than I had anticipated.

Third, I was now facing a matter of survival. If I couldn't keep my footing, I was very likely to break my sweet ass. And if that happened, even if I was still alive, I wouldn't be able to crawl all the way back to the car. It'd be 25 years before anybody found my splintered bones.

The valley bottom was filled with low trees and grass, but unless I could somehow sail over to land softly in them, they'd be of no help whatever.

The slope was steep, covered in sand and loose stones, with withered bushes sticking out precariously every few yards. I grabbed at one of them and, after the briefest tug, it came away in my hands leaving me even more off-balance. No more of that!

Slowing down was impossible and gravity had me running faster and faster down an increasingly treacherous slope. I'm not all that ashamed to admit that I screamed in my fear.

I'd almost made the bottom when I had to start swerving to dodge the trees and large boulders littering the valley floor. At least the ground cover was grass now instead of sand and flint-edged stone.

My foot rolled on something -- I couldn't tell if it was rock, stick or a bleached femur from the last bonehead to try this - and I lost my balance. Tripping, I did a complete somersault and wound up, miraculously unhurt and with my nose about six inches from a pair of sandals.

Sandals encasing a very masculine pair of feet.

I scrambled backwards to my feet and, somewhat to my shame, instinctively went into that appalling 'embarrassed naked female' pose, trying to cover breasts and pussy with my arms and hands.

When I looked up, I had to reconsider. The owner was as bare as I was.

And laughing his head off.

Broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist and standing about 5' 10', he had the body of a man accustomed to heavy exertion. Good muscle definition, I guess you'd say, without being chiselled or anything.

His dark brown hair and a short beard were sun-bleached. This was a person who spent a lot of time in the sun.

And he had a good package. Hey, even Crazy Balloon Girl was entitled to notice, despite my recent activities.

As I stared at him, I realized that I wasn't seeing any tan lines. Either this fellow was natually dark or else he and I had, to some degree at least, something in common.

He stopped laughing, but made no attempt to shield his own nudity or look away from mine.

"It's my lucky day!" he smiled. "A bundle of girl's clothes falls out of the clear blue sky, literally on my lap. Now, here's the girl."

I glared at him, but got over my initial embarrassment and stood up straight.

"How about you just give me my stuff back?" I demanded. "And what in heck are you doing out here anyway?"

His grin grew broader. "I could ask you the same thing," he laughed. "Me? If a ranger were to ask, I'm just camping here in a quiet place to do some writing and, oops, was I supposed to register, officer? Oh, I am sorry."

Without taking his eyes off me, he stuck a thumb over his shoulder and I could see a small trailer tucked in between two low trees, with a dusty pickup truck parked nearby. There was a small folding picnic table by an improvised firepit. A solar panel was staked out on a post to one side.

On the table was my missing parachute package. My clothes were laid out beside it.

As was Little Bob.

I found myself turning scarlet.

I pushed by him and grabbed my things. When I turned around, he was sitting on a rock, still grinning.

"Take a picture, perv!" I said loudly, looking around for the best way out of the valley.

The bastard had the audacity to actually snicker at me.

"Hey!" he snorted. "I was just quietly minding my own business, miles from nowhere, when a stark-naked woman literally throws herself at my feet in search of her vibrator. And I'm the perv?"

I stood there, quivering in anger - knowing he was right, but still boiling. Then the absurdity of the entire situation hit me. In spite of myself, I couldn't stop my own smile from forming. A second later, we were both laughing.

Hey -- it was one heck of an icebreaker, right?

OK, in for a dime, in for a dollar.

I took a deep breath, held out my hand. "I'm Kate," I said.

"Duncan."

"Well, sorry to just drop in like this, Duncan. I'll get out of your hair."

"No worries, Kate." He seemed about to ask the obvious question, but said nothing. His eyes swept over my body. I could hardly fault him, all things considered.

He pointed behind me. "The foot trail's over there, but would you like a coffee or something before you go?"

"Or," one of his eyebrows rising, "a short swim to cool off?"

"I wouldn't refuse a coffee," I said, "but I don't see a pool around here."

I was about to say that I hadn't brought my swimsuit, either, but stopped myself just in time. Instead, I shrugged and looked at him expectantly. Lead on...

He held out his hand to one side, as if inviting me to go in that direction, but instead led me down a faint trail. In spite of myself, I found myself getting a bit turned on by the sight of his solid manbuns in front of me.

It was, I realized, a very odd situation. Half an hour ago, I was engaged in some kinky but entirely private activities, thinking I was the only person for a hundred miles.

Now, all of a sudden, I was not only visiting a previously unknown neighbour, but I was naked with a man I'd only known for a few minutes. And I knew very, very little about him. For all I knew, he could be an escaped serial killer.