While we were engaged, my future bride told me she'd never been camping – true camping. Sleeping in a tent, cooking over a fire, hiking into a camp site camping. I had spent a lot of time doing this from the time I was a kid growing up on the edge on the northern forests, and it is something I truly enjoyed. And I knew a perfect place for a first trip.
She also told me that there were other things she'd always dreamed of doing in the forest – but – that was something she wanted to wait to tell me.
In late June of that year, we packed our gear, drove to the trail head, swung the packs up on our backs and started down the trail. It was a good trail for a beginner – fairly flat and well shaded. Nevertheless, by the time we arrived at our camp site a mile into the forest and along the river, she was pretty winded. We dropped our packs and drank from our water bottles.
The site was beautiful – nestled on a point in the river, surrounded by oaks, birch, spruce, and pine. We had a pump well and an outhouse, and there were three tent beds to choose from. I picked the one closest to the river as it would catch the morning sun best. Within an hour, we were set up and sitting down by the slow-moving river, our bobbers moving gently with the current.
"So," I said to her, "what else did you have in mind?" She blushed and flushed and smiled her mischievous smile and licked her lips. I knew from experience it was going to be something good.
"I packed a few ... things. They're in my pack."
"Like what?"
"Later, baby, later."
We fished for a while, then shed our clothes and slipped into the river. It felt good to wash the day off my body, and afterwards, I cleaned the fish we caught and cooked supper. The sun was about an hour from setting when she finally came to me with a green plastic bag, setting it on the picnic table next to me. Her smile told me that this is was it, and when I opened the bag, I saw three coils of white nylon rope.
"I wasn't sure how much you'd need," she said in a hushed voice. I moved the rope and saw that she also brought five leather straps.
"Oh, I think we'll have enough." I stood, walked over to her, kissed her and told her to strip.
"Oh, God," she whispered as she slowly pulled her t-shirt over her head. Then the khaki hiking shorts and her panties came off. As I had taught her, she showed me her panties. There was a hint of her arousal in the fabric.
"Shoes, too, baby." In a moment, she was standing there, completely exposed. Her hair was short and straight, dyed red with brown streaks showing through. She had a good figure – 34b breasts with puckered nipples, 26 inch waist, and full in the hips. Her pubic hair was trimmed neat and short. I took the leather bands, cuffs actually, from the bag and buckled them to her wrists and ankles, teasing her pussy as I worked. The last strip, a matching collar, I strapped to her neck, buckling it tight to her throat.
