Music in My Mind

It was one of my favorite trails because it was challenging and very rewarding. The incline was consistently steep and the dirt path thin and winding through thick underbrush along an animated river. It was deserted most of the time, but I had crossed paths with others a few times and twice I had walked with a companion I ran into at the trail head. I had greatly enjoyed my relaxed conversations with my companion, jumping from topic to topic exploring each other's meanderings while occasionally touching on a suggestive note. I liked that I didn't even really know this person in any formal way except by "Dan." It was simply a meeting of the minds while we walked and I was exhilarated by how open we were. The exact words I needed to shape my most complex or taboo ideas just flowed from my mouth effortlessly, and my face flushed at the innuendos inside fluttering and giggling. I had thought about each of our conversations for weeks; I even admitted to myself that those thoughts bordered on daydreams in the sultriest sense.

It took several hours to cover the entire trail, so I saved it for weekends when I had a little extra time. I was hoping on this particular day, as I did on all the others when I treated myself to this trail, that I'd run into my companion. And as luck would have it, I did. After I parked and had been walking for a few minutes, I heard someone jogging up behind me. I knew it was him even before I turned around.

He was very fit and looked great in his shorts and t-shirt, and his oversized backpack added to his outdoorsy appeal, although I wondered why in the world he would need so much gear for just a few hours. His hair was slightly long and waved as his jog slowed to a walk. I smiled and shot him a quick "hi," trying to sound casual. He smiled back and returned my greeting. We began to stride with each other and settled into a comfortably synced pace and conversation with body and mind ready for adventure.

"I've been wondering. . . " he trailed off dramatically, "what is the most exotic place you've ever hiked?"

I smiled at the word "exotic" and let the picture fall into my mind. "I hiked Diamond Head in Hawaii this summer." I answered, feeling very worldly. "I consider it my most exotic hike because everything was so beautifully different. The weather was tropical – humid and hot – and everything felt lush. From the rim I could see far out into the azure ocean and back to the reef-shadowed shoreline. I could see all the way across Waikiki beach and directly down on a crisp white lighthouse with a red roof and red and black trim. It looked postcard perfect. Two birds with flaming red heads and jet black bodies rested on an orange-flowered limb admiring the view with me. The colors just popped. I could practically feel them."

"I can just picture it." He encouraged.

I was startled. I had almost even forgotten I was walking. I had been fully engulfed in painting my memory and the cruise-controlled movements of my body had been propelling me while my mind was otherwise occupied. Now I was curious about my companion.

"What's your most exotic hike?" I recovered enough to ask.

"Walking on a private island in the South China Sea just off Palawan. I saw alligator-sized cousins of the Komodo Dragon."

"Wow," I remarked." Inside my mind's eye I pictured modern dragons lumbering across the sand dragging their giant scaly bodies and leaving pattered indentations in their wake.

Our conversation continued for about an hour until we reached the top of the trial without having passed a soul. We seemed utterly alone in the gentle filtered sun. I sat on a smooth-topped rock by the little waterfall where the shallow clear water pooled up to a grassy edge.

"Do you want a peanut pack?" I offered, wishing I had packed more.

"Actually," he started as he removed his pack, "I was going to offer you a sandwich."

"Oh, I couldn't eat your sandwich. I brought enough to snack on."

"Well, it's not actually my sandwich" he teased as he looked me straight on. "It's your sandwich. In fact, I have a whole picnic in here. I was hoping I'd run into you." For the first time in the three times I had met up with him, I was speechless as he proceeded to spread out a blanket on the grassy area just above the water's edge and pull out all the appropriate picnic trimmings. He hadn't missed a thing and had even included a red rose in a clear vase and a bottle of wine with crystal glasses. He greatly enjoyed pulling each item out of his pack, raising his brow expectantly, and setting that item down to see my impression and approval.

I silently speculated that I had somehow been transported into a romantic set-up and simply concluded I liked it. I could feel my full smile radiate as I tried to express my surprise and delight with each item. I began to tease him with my facial expressions, feigning embarrassment when he patted for me to join him on the blanket. I didn't know him, but he felt so familiar – not as a memory I had been to before, but as a safe indulgence for now – someone that had been designed just for me right at the moment. He feigned back a pout for my embarrassment, so I skipped over and playfully jumped onto the blanket, gently nudging him to smooth his crinkled brow.

The food was well thought out and wonderful. I had mentioned a preference for strawberries in a prior walk, and they were there, all cleaned and cut. The sandwiches contained lots of crisp veggies for light energy. Our conversation turned to writing and I found my words even more flowery and flowing after a couple glasses of wine. My cheeks felt hot with it and my brain buzzed happily in our musings as writing morphed into music and we excitedly compared notes on our favorite songs and musicians.

I know I would have eaten more, and I'm sure he would have too except suddenly I realized I was just looking at him. We had both stopped talking. I knew I should avert my eyes, but I didn't want to. I studied him and knew he was studying me. What was he made of? What did he think I was made of?

"Your lips are wonderful to watch." I heard him say it, but it faded because I was busy contemplating the next step when he leaned in to touch his lips to mine. My vision blurred with his closeness, and then despite the agitated swirling of the river, all I heard was my pulse drumming rhythmically in my ears. I listened as the sound overtook me and I dissolved into it.

I kissed back, feeling him cup my face with his hands. I couldn't believe how lustful I felt as I pulled him in with my arms; I wanted more. I was the one to reach out and explore, gently reaching around inside him with my tongue brushing with his until he held me even closer and responded with his tongue fluttering seductively, promising so much more. He was a patient and attentive kisser, and I could feel a moist ache developing for him. I didn't want the kiss to end, but I so wanted to continue with whatever was next.

I leaned back and he followed my body closely until we lay side by side on the blanket still kissing. His hands began to pass over my body, once again hinting at so much more. My skin welcomed each touch – the light skips and the circles – the deep fingertip drags and squeezing. I wiggled into him and drew my breath in, pushing my chest out so my nipples rubbed against his chest. I exhaled heavily, catching it for just a moment when he lifted his knee between my legs. I was startled, but settled back to my bliss when I began to ride, pushing inside the wetness of my panties and shorts against his thigh. It felt so nice to satisfy my urge to rub and cultivate my abandon. I lost track of time.

I resisted when he tried to sit up, but I felt his hands focusing on the waistband of my shorts, so I acquiesced and savored him gently pulling the elastic down my thighs, lingering and then snapping them over my knees. I was bottomless outside. Not having had many opportunities to do so before heightened the sensation, and I was very aware of the air and earth on my formerly covered parts. I could feel skin pressing directly on the earth, wanting more contact. Acutely receptive to texture and touch, I savored every bit.

I gathered him into my arms and pulled him against me, rolling over him and positioning him to follow. He joined in my giggling as we rolled alternately over one another toward the water. Raising my eyebrows suggestively, I stopped right at the edge, feeling the dampness of the wet ground finding its way into my skin. He then let out a big "Ha!" and rolled us both completely in over our heads. The river enveloped us and we clung to each other even more tightly, holding our breaths as even our heads merged in. I felt the water take me as he pressed his lips against mine tightly through the liquid before he let go and sat up in the water.

"Hey!" I protested as my head broke the surface and I sat up. I could feel the water droplets racing uncontrollably down my face. My shirt clung to me, which he clearly was enjoying.

"You started it," he remarked as he wiped water from his eyes and bow.

I thought he looked wonderful the way his face animated. Whereas his facial features seemed fairly average at first glance, watching him interact with life was beautiful. He had a quiet assurance, a knowing quality -- like he had just "been there" along with the certainty that everything was positively on track. I felt no angst in him left over from life before our hike or beginning to brew for life after our hike. Somehow he knew how to just be and to take things as they came to him, savoring each detail expectantly as if he were certain it was just meant to have been that way.

He seemed to know I would kiss him at that time, so I did. I could feel him smile beneath my lips, his cheeks touching mine and his lips tightening as he hugged me tightly to him, slipping his hands behind me and below the bottom hem of my tank shirt, peeling its moist cling from my small round breasts. I raised my arms and let him remove it. He tossed it to the grassy area in a wet heap.

My nipples hardened exquisitely in the air. I felt a bit self-conscious, but still very lustful. I was happy he paused to look me over as I stood completely naked before him. I drew my breath in; he let his out, "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

I wanted him to continue. "I am now topless and bottomless with wet shoes." I teased, picking up my foot at the knee and holding up a hiking boot as best I could above the water line. "And what about you, Mr. Dan?"

He grinned and stood, removing his shorts clumsily over his large hiking boots. They joined my shirt in a wet heap. Then he dramatically removed his own shirt, spinning it around over his head in a wide circle a few times stripper-fashion before flinging it with our other clothes.

I mostly missed the show, however, because I had stopped paying attention to anything other than the place where his pants had been. I couldn't believe he was standing there up to his lower thighs in water with nothing else on. He was out in the open, invitingly hard, well-shaped, and right in front of me. His dick bobbed up and down happily just above the water line. He grinned like the canary that ate the cat.

I lowered myself back into the water and pushed myself over to him "walking" on my hands atop the silt with my body floating up behind me, moving as seductively as I could through the water while maintaining eye contact. I could feel the roundness of my butt cresting in the water. I'm certain I was blushing as my face was hot. I distracted myself from my boldness, imagining myself as a sea serpent slithering over, operating on animal instinct, taking him in my mouth. He responded eagerly and I pulled his hardness into my cheeks, sucking while shifting to my knees. The pool's bottom was soft and receiving. I closed my eyes and enjoyed feeling him so privately. I cooed. I was delighted with his echo as he passionately kneaded the back of my head.

I could feel him push into my throat, gently expanding me. I opened in a yawn, feeling my saliva thicken in response to his depth. My eyes watered as I concentrated on the rhythm that yielded the best response. He looked down approvingly. I could feel him tense with pleasure and surrender. His breathing was ragged. I withdrew only once to swallow and taste his precum before resuming his favored rhythm. He was wonderfully responsive in that I could just feel what he desired and I found it so carnally instinctive to give it to him.

I was using one hand for balance, but I couldn't resist slipping the other between my legs where I longed to again be rubbed – to be touched. The more I felt myself pleasuring him, the more my own pleasure grew. I rubbed myself right to my very edge. My world focused to that pinpoint of passion, and I was flirting with it, trying to resist, but when I got too close to the rim, I slipped – and happily, so did he.

Actually, I suppose I should confess that when I slipped I probably dragged him over with me because I started to moan with him still deep in my throat. He suddenly froze and tightened his fingertips into my scalp as I was releasing my bliss. He breathed, "ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhh" jerkily. I felt myself crest and drain in pulses, my fingers rubbing my swollen clit. He too drained in long pulses, his throbbing shaft filling my throat with warmth. I had been so worked up that my pleasure cascaded over me luxuriously as I swallowed a saline gulp of his liquid.

"Mmmmmmm," I purred as I let him drop from my mouth, the rest of his cum slipping down my chin and dripping into the water. I leaned back, reclining into the water and then floating. I stretched and just let the liquid suspend me as I felt the last few drops of him fall sideways from my face and join the river. He got down into the water next to me and also began back floating. He took my hand as we both looked up into the wild mosaic-textured canopy of tiffany blue and green. For a few minutes we were quiet.

Then we talked as our bodies floated side by side in the afterglow. And after our sharing of both mental and physical pleasures, we agreed to share our artistic pleasures via the internet.

It wasn't long before we emptied the water from our shoes, wrung our clothes out, packed the picnic, and began our return hike a bit soggy but exhilarated. I have replayed it in long detailed displays in my mind for three days now while listening in my headphones to the intricately impassioned guitar songs he has created on his My Space page. And as I type now, I am grinning because I am imagining him with my creations in his mind, especially this creation infused with him.