Thanks to all of you for your continued support. I cannot express how happy I get whenever one of you comments on my work. It motivates me to write more and more.
As for what you are about to read, the story of Ryan and Skye continues (you didn't think that a story called "Pitching a Tent" would end before they even got to the camping part, did you?). This chapter is definitely more relationship driven than part one, though there is fun at the end, I promise. Hope you enjoy, and be sure to SMASH the "Like" and "Subscribe" buttons! Wait...That's only for Youtube. Nevermind.
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"Now Entering Pisgah National Park"
The sign signaled the end of our seven hour road trip, and I was excited to stretch my legs. The back seat of George's car was not meant for people as tall as me, and my legs were getting numb.
Under normal circumstances, I probably would have thrown a fit and demanded to at least spend SOME of the trip up front. George was three inches shorter than me, and Colin was easily six or seven. It didn't make sense to have my gangly ass back there. So why didn't I complain? It was simple. Skye was in the back seat. Therefore, I wanted to be in the backseat. And boy was I glad that I didn't complain.
After spending the first portion of the trip catching up on what had happened since I last saw her, we got a bit flirty and the end result was a very adult version of Red Light-Green Light with the guys up front. And by that, I mean it was a game of "how much fooling around can we do without our brothers looking back and noticing. We won. Well, at least I did. Skye gave me a blow job and then swallowed every drop — all without our navigators having a clue. But I digress.
We arrived at our plot of land just after 7:00 AM, and for the first time in hours, I had the ability to get out and recover the feeling in my legs. Once they were finally awake, I walked around to the back of the car to start unpacking. Skye was still stretching on her side of the vehicle when I took my bag out of the trunk. And by stretching, I mean she was bent over and touching her toes. She was giving me quite the show. The girl was definitely flexible, and my brain was doing gymnastics of its own, imagining all of the ways that could be used in bed.
It took about an hour to set up our tents and unpack, but after that, we decided that it was best to get some real sleep. No one really gets restful sleep in a car. The first day was always like that.
"Ryan, you're in here with me," George told me, opening up the flap to our tent. I was a bit surprised. I figured he and Colin would be together. I shrugged and followed him in.
"Wow...You and Colin are already sleeping in separate tents? Can't say that's a great sign for your marriage," I said jokingly.
George laughed. "Nah, it's nothing like that. This is OUR camping trip. Our time to catch up. Colin and Skye are just here with us."
It was a nice sentiment, but I didn't really think that who slept where really mattered. And I doubted that George felt different. I couldn't help but think it more about making sure Skye was comfortable. I mean, it's not like HE knew just how "familiar" she had gotten with me a few hours earlier. I figured that by the end of the day, we could convince the two adults that them sleeping apart was silly and we'd be fine. Then we could go at it like rabbits.
After sleeping away the rest of the morning, we got up around 1:00 and decided that since we were all still a little sluggish, fishing seemed to be the move. It required next to no energy, and if we got lucky, maybe we could catch ourselves some dinner that didn't come out of a can. At least the three guys did. Skye said that she wasn't much of a fishing person and preferred to just hang back and read a book she had brought. Colin and George seemed unconcerned by this, but I couldn't help but think differently.
Is she avoiding me? Is that the real reason we aren't sharing a tent? Did she regret fooling around? So much for a relaxing afternoon fishing.
It took about 15 minutes to walk the half mile to Curtis Creek. We found a small dock that jutted in, so that we wouldn't have to wade knee deep in the water like some of the other fishermen down stream, and we put down our stuff.
Even though I elected to go, I was actually much more like Skye when it came to fishing. It really wasn't my thing. People talk about it being peaceful, but for me, "peaceful" is more synonymous with "boring." Still, it gave me an opportunity to catch up with my brother. We had fallen a little out of touch the last month or so, as I buckled down for finals and made the overwhelming transition from news editor to managing editor at the paper. I always had a bad habit of failing to stay in contact with family and people from back home while I was at school. Turns out that we were more out of touch than I thought.
"So how is that girlfriend of yours? What's her name? Monica?"
"Monica? Jesus, you are WAYYY out of the loop, my dude."
"Oh geez. What happened? And when?"
"Like two months ago," I said, shaking my head and laughing. "She was just kinda 'eh'."
Monica and I started seeing each other right around Christmas, and we lasted until about the end of April. It was a classic case of a guy thinking with his dick. She was definitely hot — nice rack, tight stomach, dancers legs — she just didn't have much of a personality. We also didn't have much in common. She hated baseball, camping, and just about every television show I liked. The sex was good, but when we weren't hooking up, there was just kind of a void. An uncomfortable silence. She also didn't think that My Cousin Vinny was funny (she spent the entire movie texting when I tried to show it to her), which is 100% a deal breaker.
Once we got away from talk about my sex life, we moved on to much more pleasant topics. Colin and George were apparently about to adopt a German Shepard puppy named Champ from a shelter just outside of Baltimore. George put his fishing pole down and swiped through a couple of pictures of their visit last week and said that they were going to be picking him up the day they get back. I wasn't a huge dog person myself (I'm not a monster; it's just more work than I'm willing to put forth), but the dog did look cute, and George had always wanted one. I was happy for him.
We talked about other random things — my internship this summer and how it meant I'd be closer to them, what my plans were after graduating, and guessing what dad was REALLY doing to throw out his back. My money was on falling down the stairs, while George said he was SURE it was something like picking a remote up off the ground. Then Colin ruined the game with his own theory.
"Ten bucks says that he threw it out plowing your mom."
George and I both instantly cringed at the thought of our parents having intercourse. I contemplated telling Colin I was going to fuck his sister, but settled for throwing a worm at him.
When the sun started to set, we packed up and started to head back to the campsite. All in all, it was a pretty successful day. Colin had caught a couple big trout that looked promising. George had caught one as well. I had more or less struck out, but that was expected. I did catch one little guy, but he wasn't big enough by the gaming commissions standards, so we had to release him.
We got back right as it was getting dark out, and Colin and George began scaling and gutting our dinner. Skye and I were tasked with the job of starting the fire.
"How is your book?"
Skye hesitated to respond, but eventually let out a meek "It's fine."
Not good. Not good at all.
We got the fire going, but with minimal actual discussion. The few times our eyes met, her face became flush and she averted her gaze right away. She regretted what happened on the way. I fucking knew it.
As we cooked the trout over the bonfire, Skye sat on the opposite side of the circle and said very little. Colin tried to get her to open up more, even requesting that she sing as he broke out his guitar, but it was to no avail. I was crushed inside. I knew that she had been every bit a part of our fun as I did, and it wasn't like I had forced her to do anything she didn't want, but it still ate at me.
I liked Skye. A lot. And the more time I spent with her, the more I liked. It wasn't just the fact that she was stunning. We seemed to click. We had so much more in common than Monica and I ever did. I probably laughed more in the two conversations I had had with Skye than I did in the four months I dated Monica. Whether we had sex it not, I wanted that version of Skye to return.
I found myself comparing Skye and Monica to each other, unintentionally of course. They were different in almost every way. Monica was about a half a foot taller than Skye, and was definitely MUCH heavier up top. Monica had a set of breasts that could tempt George to switch teams (yes, I'm aware that isn't how it works, but you get what I mean). Meanwhile, Skye didn't have much of a chest. I figured that was the case for most gymnasts; double-D tits would probably get in the way on the uneven bars, right? But her lack of a rack didn't matter because Skye had literally the most perfect legs and ass I had ever seen. And while Monica was pretty, Skye was just stunning. And it always came back to that smile. I was convinced that I could see it every day for a decade and still melt every time. Not that I had seen it since we got out of the car that morning.
