Up in the Mountains Ch. 04

Welcome! This is the fourth installment of the story Up in the Mountains. I hope you will read the first three chapters in order to have the best experience. However, if you want to jump right in, here is a brief summary of the story so far.

The narrator, Mark, met his new girlfriend on a trip to Italy, where they bonded over love of the outdoors. They both realized they wanted their relationship to continue. Mark turned down a position in a prestigious archaeology program in order to follow Lindsey to Boston, where she has started a new job. While they intend to continue to live together for the long term, Mark is away from her for a few months working on an archaeological dig for experience and credit in England. Will their blossoming relationship survive the strain of a temporary separation and temptation?

The early days of my time at the dig in England are a bit of a blur. I had been brought onto the team because I had rope experience and was willing to work for academic credit. It was apparent from the first day that I would be up against a steep learning curve in terms of my practical archaeological knowledge. I had a lot to learn, to say the least.

The site was a Roman fort and settlement on a green hillside close to the Scottish border. It lay along a Roman military road up in the hills that survives to this day as a long-distance hiking route. That part of northern England was a remote and beautiful place. Although mostly treeless, the rolling green hills were wild and rocky. The weather was more often than not grey and cool and rain was frequent. Some days it rained hard enough that work shut down and the archaeology was protected by heavy tarps.

One side of the hill was eroding away rapidly. A university in northern England, with sponsorship from the government, put on this expedition to document the site before it was lost. Initially, my work was setting up belay systems on the steepest parts of the dig for the more experienced archaeologists and other students. The area we were excavating was not so sheer, but it overlooked a deep ravine. A false step without a rope for protection could send a scientist sliding down the grassy slope to be dashed on the rocky outcrops below. Using ropes for safety was definitely advisable.

My supervisor was an English doctoral candidate named Gretchen who was leading the students working on the area of steepest hillside. She was very comfortable with rope skills herself and also had several years of experience in digs. She was severe with safety protocols and some of the other students thought she was too strict. I didn't mind because I understood the importance of the safety rules. I thought she was tough but fair. She was an attractive woman a few years my senior with red hair, which she wore up in a braided ponytail while she worked. She led with confidence and was highly competent. She was also a strong young woman in excellent shape who did not shy away from the hard work. She expected all of us to pull our weight.

As the days went by and team became more proficient with the safety procedures and equipment, I had less to do in that regard. Gretchen started to teach me some fundamental techniques for excavation and documenting our finds. What I lacked in experience, I made up in enthusiasm. Although I enjoyed working with all of my colleagues, some of the other graduate students were not as motivated to put in the extra effort. Gretchen clearly started to favor me and provided me with some interesting learning opportunities. I was definitely going to leave this dig with great experience for someone so new to the field. Gretchen and I also developed a fast friendship as we spent more time hanging out after work. We both enjoyed chatting about the history of the area and the archaeology.

I missed Lindsey very much and I had a hard time staying in touch with her. We worked pretty long hours on the dig, there was a five-hour time difference, and I had to conserve phone battery. I was only able to charge it every so often. I was living with the students in a tent camp close to the dig. Only some of the professors and senior professionals had lodging in the closest small community. A mile or so down the track from the site, there was a winding single-lane road that led to a charming little village.

A few shops lined both sides of the main street, including a charming little pub. On more than a few evenings, I accompanied a handful of my coworkers for a stroll down the hill into the village for a pint. Some of the people in the village may have grumbled about the invasion of the academics, but on the whole they were friendly. The publican certainly appreciated the increased business, as the tourist and hiker season was winding down. The pub had a few guest rooms available to rent. Groups of the students living in the tent camp would pool their resources every week or so to rent a room to get a hot shower. On these occasions that I came into town, I was usually able to plug in and reconnect with Lindsey.

One of my favorite memories of the early weeks of the dig was the night that I joined a group of my friends at the pub down the hill for a Newcastle soccer match. My friends were quick to remind me that it was called football in England. It was an evening game and the pub was packed full of fans in the black and white shirts of Newcastle. The atmosphere was great.

The crowd cheered when Newcastle struck first to take an early lead. When the other side drew level going into half time off a corner kick, the pub crowd cried out in dismay. They jeered at bad calls and whooped with joy when the Newcastle keeper nearly stood on his head to block a tricky shot. It looked like the game was headed for a draw when, in extra time, a hero in black and white launched the ball toward the goal. The kick was a was a laser beam to the top corner. The keeper got a hand on it, but it still tipped through into the net. The crowd in the pub must have roared as loud as the crowd in the stadium when the official blew full time. More than one pint glass was shattered in the pandemonium.

After the match, I stayed back with a knot of the student diggers who were all wearing white and black Newcastle shirts. They were in a celebratory mood after their team's literally last-minute triumph. The conversation was all football, and I didn't have much to contribute, so I mostly just observed and took in the new experience while sipping an ale.

Gretchen spotted me across the group and came over to chat with a pint of beer in her hand.

"So, what do you think of your first English football match?" she asked. Instead of her usual work clothes, she was wearing a soccer shirt and a pair of jeans. She looked cute with her bright red hair down and some makeup on.

"It was fun," I said. "There's a lot less point scoring than American football, but I liked that the action keeps moving and the clock never stops."

"Good atmosphere, right?"

"Oh yeah, it was cool to see the passion of fans."

"And Newcastle fans are the best!" This she said a little louder and more over her shoulder to the crowd than to me. Her statement was answered with cheers from the rest of the fans still lingering. "How are you liking your first dig?" she asked.

"It's been great so far," I answered. "You've been so patient and I'm learning a ton."

"Well, you're doing a great job. I was surprised when Dr. Smith-Rowe told me that you are not enrolled in a program in the States."

"No, this is my first experience in the field at all. I was supposed to start a graduate program in archaeology back home this fall, but something else came up."

"What was that?" she asked and took a sip of beer.

"A girl," I said with a grin and a shrug.

"Oh," said Gretchen. She hesitated for a second before asking further. "I guess it must be a serious relationship to walk away from that opportunity."

"Absolutely," I agreed with a nod.

"How many years have you been together?" she asked.

I laughed out loud, which seemed to confuse Gretchen. "When I made the decision, we'd been together about two weeks."

She raised her eyebrows at that. "Two weeks? That's mad. How long have you been dating now?"

"It was just about two months when I left for England."

"Two months? Jesus, but the dig is longer than that. By the time you finish here, you'll have been gone longer than you were with this girl."

"That's true," I had to admit.

"Do you think you'll manage the distance that long?"

"I think so," I said.

Gretchen looked amused and shook her head a little. "Well, I guess we'll see. Good luck to you, I guess." She raised her glass and we clinked our drinks together with a laugh. We rejoined the circle celebrating the win and I enjoyed one more pint with the crew before we all wandered back up toward camp.

As we walked up, one of the other students fell in beside me.

"Fun time, Mark?"

"For sure."

"Nice. What's up with you and Gretchen? Are you making a move there?"

"What do you mean, Sean?"

"Nothing really. Just some of the lads said she seems to favor you. I saw you having a private chat and I wondered."

"Nah, it's not like that. We're just work friends. She's cute, but I'm seeing someone at home."

"I guess cute. A bit of a ball buster." Sean shrugged. I opened my mouth to argue that she seemed perfectly nice to me, but I decided that might not be the thing to say if people were thinking there was something going on. I just shrugged instead.

"We're just friends," I said. He nodded without further comment and our chat shifted to football.

I didn't forget what Sean had said. Shortly after football match, I did start to notice that Gretchen was maybe a little flirty with me. If we were hanging out with a group of people, she always found her way over to talk with me. Outside of work, when we chatted, I noticed that she found reasons to put her hand on my arm or my shoulder. Her jokes started to be filled with sexual inuendo, although she always passed it off with a laugh. I didn't try to encourage her, but I also didn't do anything to put a stop to it. She was my closest friend on the dig and I didn't want to be awkward. I was also a little worried about any kind of confrontation, since she was my supervisor. We were both students, but the professor would listen to her opinion on my performance.

Later that week, I was able to get ahold of Lindsey by phone just as she was getting off work. It was nice to be able to catch up. I told her about the fun experience of watching a football match with English fans and she let me know that she had been hiking that weekend with a few friends from work. I was excited for her and a little bit sad that I wasn't the one she was hiking with.

That night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I found myself worrying about the fact that most of the group she was hiking with were guys. I trusted Lindsey, but I very much did not trust a group of guys I had not met. I knew Lindsey was pretty special and I figured that other guys saw it too. I remembered my conversation with Gretchen. Most people didn't understand how such a new relationship could be serious enough to survive a separation and they might see an opportunity. With me out of the country, these guys might try their luck. I didn't like finding a bit of a jealous streak in myself and I tried to suppress it.

Sometimes it was hard to handle the celibacy that comes with distance. Lindsey and I had a pretty hot physical relationship, and I felt like I was in withdrawal after going cold turkey. One night, lying in my sleeping bag in my tent, I found my thoughts wandering to her. I knew she probably already going to work and would not have time for a call. Sighing inwardly, I decided to pull up her social media to see some pictures of her. It always cheered me up to see her face. Obviously, since we hadn't been dating long, I had not seen many of her old posts before. I grinned as a swiped through some of her old pictures. I felt like a bit of a stalker as I explored my own girlfriend's page.

Lindsey didn't post anything on social media that was risqué or provocative, but a girl with her natural beauty was sexy without trying too hard. Her sparkling smile, golden blonde hair, and athletic figure quickly worked their usual effect and I felt my cock stirring in my boxers. I slid my free hand down my stomach until it slipped under the waist band. I lightly brushed the head and shaft of my cock with my fingertips, stirring my arousal even further.

God, she was sexy. I found a picture of her lounging around her old college dorm in sweat pants almost as arousing as a picture of her sunning herself in a bikini on spring break. One picture in particular finally got me rock hard. It was a snap of Lindsey making a flirty face to the camera while wearing the same red skirt and top she had been wearing the day we had professed our love for each other in Italy. We had sex for the first time that afternoon on a Vespa scooter on the road side. I remembered lifting the skirt, spreading her thighs, and slipping inside her warm pussy.

By now, I was gripping my cock in my free hand and slowly stroking it. Caressing the head of with my thumb, I felt a small trickle of my semen there. It had been a while since I had any release. I really needed it now. I thumbed over to my messaging app and sent Lindsey a text:

i miss you

i miss you too!! how are you?

im getting ready for work

im ok, been looking at some cute old pictures of you online

haha, creeper

might have been a mistake

why?

because you're gorgeous, but you are 1000 miles away

cant fall asleep now

oh, so its like that huh? torturing yourself?

something like that. i saw a picture of you in that red skirt. you know the one

the scooter? oh yeah ;-)

well now i have a problem

probably a pretty big one as I recall. can we talk?

maybe i could tell you what to do about that

i cant talk like that now, in camp

hmm. then just close your eyes and remember me that day

oh yeah

are you touching yourself

yeah, im so hard for you

imagine your hand is me on top of you

come for me baby

I groaned and stroked my cock harder. Closing my eyes, I smiled remembering how her sweet pussy felt gripping my cock that day up in the mountains in Italy. I was in my own tent, but the campsite was crowded. I was going to have to stay quiet. My chest heaved with every stifled breath as I pumped myself. The orgasm started in my groin near the base of my cock and rose until a strong blast of cum erupted from the tip. I grunted softly as I coaxed out more spurts with each wave of pleasure. I sighed as the feeling subsided. Opening my eyes, I sent Lindsey another message:

i came so hard for you

oh yeah, thats hot

wish i was there with you

me too

soon! its not much longer.

i love you!

love you too

sleep well

i will now

youre welcome

;-)

I slept like a baby the rest of the night. As I set up the safety gear on the hillside for the next day's digging, I found myself smiling and whistling while I worked. I hadn't realized how badly I'd needed the release.

I distracted myself from Lindsey's absence by throwing myself even harder at my work. I was the first one on the site every morning and one of the last to leave in the afternoon. I spent most of my free time studying some texts I borrowed from Dr. Smith-Rowe and Gretchen. I was exhilerated on the day I found an almost-intact peice of pottery. Gretchen and the professor let me perform the delicate task of excavating it, but they carefully supervised every step. It was a dream come true. I knew I had truly found my professional calling and I was thriving under good leadership.

As the weeks went by, I was having a great time in England learning my trade, but I was always missing Lindsey. I'd felt a little bit of jealousy in the early days of my time away, but I'd managed those feelings. There came a time, however, when I became genuinely worried. It had been a few days since I had heard from Lindsey. In and of itself, that was nothing to be concerned about. Our schedules were five hours off and I was still living outside mostly. Over the last few weeks, however, our contact had been more and more sparse. One time, I managed to really upset her by stupidly asking whether one of her male coworkers might be into her. She thought I was questioning her loyalty, which I did not intend. Regardless, I shouldn't have asked the question.

After about three days of radio silence, I had a text message waiting for me one evening when I got back to my tent and turned on my phone:

call me

Naturally, that had me pretty worried. I tried to call her right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Over the next two days, I tried to reach her by text a few times and I left a few voicemails. I knew our roommates would have contacted me if something truly horrible had happened, but I was still concerned.

As it had been more than a month of digging, the staff was given a few days off in a row. Things were progressing well and the professors decided that the workers needed a break. I had previously discussed the possibility of coming home with Lindsey, but I was short of cash at the moment to buy a last-minute international ticket. I thought she might be willing to buy the ticket or lend me the cash, but with Lindsey not answering me I was stuck.

I decided to make the best of it and explore the walking path that followed the route of the Roman road through the hills. I didn't want to go by myself, so I asked around. Nobody else was interested in spending their rest time on a hike. I was about to abandon the plan, but Gretchen volunteered to join me. She said a hike would be fun. Maybe I should have thought harder about it, but I thought a casual hike would be okay.

When I crawled out of my tent the next morning, it was another typical overcast day in northern England. A thick fog had rolled in during the night and it was difficult to see beyond a few hundred meters of the green landscape. I saw Gretchen waiting for me by the path out of the camp.

"Good morning," she greeted me, "are you ready to roll?"

"Absolutely," I said, "better to get moving to warm up."

"Seriously," she responded and blew into her hands to warm them. As she slung her pack up onto her shoulders, I noticed it appeared to be a large British Army Bergen-style pack.

"Why are you bringing such a big bag?" I asked. "That seems like overkill for a day hike."

"It's for training," she said. "I need to keep my fitness up to be ready for duty."

"What do you mean?"

"The Army. I'm in the reserve."

"Woah. That's intense. I didn't know that. I noticed you wore army pants while working on site, but I figured they were just surplus for practicality."

"Because I'm a woman?" She said this with a smirk, so I didn't perceive she took any actual offense.

"No, of course not," I said. "You never mentioned being in the forces and I just didn't consider it. Lots of people wear that kind of thing for field work." There were at least one or two others on our dig that did as well. None of them were in the forces as far as I knew.

"Well, they are practical, but it's also just convenient. I turn my old pants into work clothes when I get fresh ones." We started to walk toward the path as we chatted. "You don't mind if we start off at a pretty brisk pace, do you?" she asked. "I want to time myself."

"I thought this was just for laughs," I said. "Last night you said it would be a lot of fun." I pulled a face.

"This will be fun," she said. "Won't it be fun to see if a British woman can march a yank man into the ground?"