Spelunking

Spelunking is not a hobby most people consider. Exploring caves can be claustrophobic even for those comfortable in small spaces. Add dark, damp, cold, uneven surfaces and things that go bump in the night and most people choose to spend their time doing something else.

I'm not one of those people. I find it exhilarating to challenge a cave where most of your normal senses and conditioning are useless. My name is Norman and I explore caves in my spare time. At least I used to. I still find caving fascinating but an incident twenty years ago changed my approach. Now I satisfy my urge to go underground by reading about the adventures of others and watching their videos.

Two decades ago, I was a member of a group exploring a mostly unexplored system of caves in the mountains of West Virginia. It wasn't my first caving experience. I had been spending weekends caving for almost six years. A local speleological club had assembled a group of eight enthusiasts to explore and map a recently discovered chain of caves. The group was led by a professional caver and included members with various levels of experience.

The plan was to enter the cave and move in a straight line through the rocks for about four hours and then reverse course and return the way we came. The group leader made sure we all had the appropriate equipment, helmet, headlamps with a backup, sturdy boots, socks, gloves, knee and elbow pads, and lots of water, energy drinks and protein bars. We didn't carry ropes or climbing gear, as we weren't expecting vertical sections and planned to return if we encountered any.

At the cave entrance, the leader established a walking order. He would lead and we would follow in single file, behind him. I was the participant with the most experience after the leader, so I was assigned the final position, the group's spirit guide, to keep the group together and to insure that no one wandered away from the group or was behind me.

Lisa, the young lady in the next to last place and just in front of me, was a relative novice. This was only her third caving experience and the first with a professional guide in a previously unexplored cave.

For the first two hours, we moved steadily forward, using our headlamps for illumination, until we reached a narrow section that required us to squeeze between the rocks and crawl under an outcropping. The leader went through first to check the other side for safety and called back when he was satisfied although he told us we would have to move forward quickly when we cleared the passage to make room for next person. I sent the others through the opening, one at a time. Lisa was the last to go through.

She was hesitant and slow to move forward. Eventually, she made it to the other side. I followed her through. When I reached the other side, Lisa was sitting on the path, taking pictures of the rock formation with a tiny camera she had brought in her waist belt. By the time I had moved her out of the way and pulled myself from the low passage, we had lost the light from the rest of the group.

I was concerned but rationalized that we could increase our pace and catch up with the group. We moved steadily forward until we encountered a fork in the passage. We still hadn't seen any light from those ahead of us. We needed to make a decision. Lisa suggested we take the left passage arguing that the leader would take the narrower passage as the path less traveled since mapping the cave was one of the purposes of the expedition.

We went left.

Within ten minutes, I was sure we had made the wrong decision. We stopped frequently, listening for noise or voices and checking for a glow from their lights without success. I turned us around and headed back toward the narrow passage searching for a known point of reference.

Fifteen minutes later, we hadn't encountered anything familiar and I knew we were lost. I settled us as comfortably as I could and we waited in the hope we were near enough to the original path that we would see or hear the group as they returned. Four hours later, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

We were on our own. We moved carefully for several hours hoping to find something we had seen before that would give us a sense of direction. Unsuccessful and tired, we settled down again to rest and consider our next move. I knew volunteers would immediately begin to search for us when it was discovered we were missing, so I told Lisa we would just remain where we were until the searchers could find us. Moving around, I told her, reduced our chances of being found, since we could move away from the searchers and miss them altogether. They also needed to know that an area they had searched did not need to be searched again and, if we moved, we ran the risk that we could move into one of the cleared areas and never be found.

We turned off our lights to conserve the batteries, only using them to find water and food in our packs or check the time. We sat next to each other to insure we weren't separated and to preserve body heat.

It was cold, about fifty-seven degrees. We hadn't planned a long time underground and hadn't dressed in heavily insulated clothing. As time passed, Lisa clung closer to me for warmth and possibly moral support. I constantly assured her that rescuers would find us although I wasn't as sure myself as I hope I sounded to her.

Over time, Lisa literally wrapped her body around mine, either seeking warmth or easing her fear. I wrapped my arms around her. She rested her head on my shoulder. When she turned her head up to face mine, our helmets collided. She took hers off, ducked under mine and kissed me.

I was surprised, but managed to return her kiss. I wasn't sure of her intent. Maybe she just needed assurance that I would protect her. However, her kiss became more insistent, her arms circled my head and her body repositioned against mine until she was straddling my hips as we kissed. Unable to contain my response, my penis grew into an erection and Lisa noticed.

Unable to stop either of us, I helped her undo my pants, held her while she removed hers in the dark and she settled down with me inside her. It wasn't a romantic or playful fuck. It was a desperate act between two people facing death, alone underground in the dark and seeking one last act of the ultimate human experience before the end.

We were finished quickly. Lisa trembled as I came, whether from cold or orgasm I couldn't determine. I use my headlamp to help her find her trousers and get them back on. In the process, I noticed she was without pubic hair.

We fell asleep in each other's arms. I thought that Lisa didn't expect to wake up. However, we did wake up. We ate the last of our energy bars but I limited our water, trying to make it last as long as possible.

We clung together, alert for any flicker of light or hint of sound that would indicate searchers were nearby. Hours later, Lisa picked up her head and said, "Norm, are you okay with what we did?"

"What we did?" I questioned.

"You know, made love," she explained.

"It was certainly unexpected," I told her, "but I understand it."

"Could we do it again?" Lisa asked.

Aside from having to remove some clothing and endure the cold, I couldn't think of a single reason to deny her request. Eventually, someone would find us, or our bodies, and no one would ever know how we spent our time.

We were much more deliberate this time. We kissed with some meaning. Lisa opened her shirt, lifted her bra and I fondled and kissed her breasts in the dark, imagining how they looked. We both removed our pants. It was unrealistic to lie down on the damp ground, so Lisa mounted me as before and we moved together, clinging to each other until Lisa had a real orgasm.

She fell asleep on my chest. I let her rest for several minutes before I woke her and helped her get back into her pants, straighten her bra and button her shirt. I put my pants back on, Lisa curled up in my lap, I put my arms around her and we went to sleep.

We woke and I checked the time. It was four o'clock. I had lost track of time and I didn't know if it was the middle of the night or the middle of the afternoon or even what day it was. I scrambled around in my pack and found an energy bar I had missed earlier. We shared the bar, drank half of the remaining water and curled up in each other's arms. It felt different this time. We seemed more comfortable, less like strangers.

The third time we had sex, it was a romantic encounter. We approached it slowly, with lots of kissing and touching. We felt our way around each other's bodies. The dark added a sense of intrigue not usually present otherwise. I found, fondled and kissed her breasts and Lisa found her way into my pants and took my erection in her mouth. When she mounted me for the third time, we settled together and held the position for a long time. Lisa began to grind on me. I could feel her approaching an orgasm. Her back was arched and her head thrown back. Her moan began as a low rumble and increased to a high wail. Before either of us could orgasm the first hint of light came from further down the passage.

I quickly helped Lisa to dress. I pulled up and buckled my pants before I called out in the direction of the light. Minutes later, four of the most beautiful cavers I'd ever seen were standing in front of us. They gave us energy bars and water. They helped us to our feet and half carried, half walked us, through the narrow passage and out of the cave.

Sunlight was never so welcome. We had been underground for almost three days. Lisa and I were taken to a nearby hospital where we remained overnight for observation. We were slightly dehydrated but otherwise unharmed. Early the next morning, Lisa came into my hospital room. I was seated in the only chair and she sat on the side of the bed.

"How are you doing, Norm?" she said.

"I'm doing fine. You?" I asked.

"Glad to be alive," Lisa said. "Norm, I need to talk to you," she continued.

"Okay."

"About what we did," she said.

"You don't have to explain. I think I understand," I told her.

"I don't think you do," Lisa said. "Let me talk, please," she asked.

I sat still and looked at her.

"The first time," she said. "I thought I might die. Actually, I was sure I was going to die and I was desperate for some human contact. I can't reconstruct how we ended up that way but I was grateful beyond imagination, having you inside me for what I imagined was the last time in my life."

I nodded, listening.

"The second time was more of the same. I was amazed I was still alive and wanted to feel you inside me again. Something happened to me that second time. My feelings evolved from a physical need to a warm, emotional satisfaction. After that, I wanted to live.

"The last time, I wanted to share how I felt with you and it was magical. I knew we were going to make it. I thought it was the last time for us and I wanted it to be the best. The only thing I regret is that the searchers could have been ten minutes later."

I laughed and Lisa laughed with me.

"Norm," continued Lisa. "I owe you everything."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Without you I would have died in there," she asserted.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "You were never in danger of dying."

"That's not true and you know it," challenged Lisa. "I was ready to give up that first day. I had given up. I was certain I was going to die. Without you, I would have quit and I would have died. You gave me hope. You shared your water, your food, your warmth, your body and your hope with me. Without any of it, I was already dead. I owe you. I owe you my life. Everything I do, everything I achieve, whatever success I have from here on is to because of you. I'll never not believe that."

"Lisa," I said. "That's a huge responsibility to put on me. It wasn't unilateral. We helped each other. We shared our water, we shared our food, we shared our warmth, we shared our bodies and we built our faith together that we would be saved.

"Wherever you go, whatever you do, it's all yours. All I did is help you get to the starting point. What you do with it is up to you. Life has given us another chance. The only responsibility we have is not to screw it up. The only thing I accept is that I was there at your start."

"However, you see it, it's not that simple," Lisa asserted. "On another topic, the nurse told me that we're going home today."

"I like that," I said.

"Norm," she said. "I don't want to go home alone."

"Don't you have someone you can stay with for a while?" I asked.

"Can I come home with you?" Lisa asked.

I didn't expect that.

"Please," Lisa pleaded. "Right now, I want that orgasm I didn't have."

That afternoon, Lisa held my hand as I drove to my apartment. We were both wearing scrubs the hospital gave us since the only clothing we had was caving attire. No underwear, just scrubs and canvas footwear.

At home, Lisa pulled me into the bedroom and pushed me back on the bed. She stripped off her scrubs and pulled off mine before she impaled herself on me. We duplicated how we were in the cave when the rescuers found us except I could see her breasts and we weren't going to be interrupted. Eventually, her back arched, her head leaned back, her eyes closed and she began a low wail rising higher in pitch until I couldn't hear her any longer although her mouth stayed open. I heard the dog next door barking.

Her body trembled and her orgasm shook both of us and the bed. She took me with her over the brink and into the void. We survived the eruption and Lisa collapsed on my chest, her hair falling over my face.

We took showers and I got dressed, jeans, golf shirt and slip-ons. Lisa borrowed a pair of my boxers and a t-shirt, no footwear. That night, sitting on my sofa, drinking beer, she drove me crazy.

Lisa was thinking about other things. "Norm," she said, "I need to explain something. I had to have the orgasm I didn't have in the cave. I had to know if I was having sex from the fear of death, the need for human touch or if I wanted you."

"Okay," I responded.

"Just listen," Lisa ordered. "I know now that I wanted you and I want to restart my life with some specific things. Do you want to hear them?" she asked.

"Sure," I said.

"Okay. Stop me if you don't agree with what I want. First, I want to live with you."

Lisa paused, waiting for my objection. When I didn't object, she continued.

"I'll move in here but eventually, we'll find a more suitable place for both of us. Second, I want to marry you."

I put up my hand. "You don't want to marry me?" Lisa asked sadly.

"Lisa," I said. "I'd marry you in a New York minute, but I think there's a better arrangement."

"What's better than loving you and wanting to be with you?"

"Nothing. I love you and I want to be with you too. It's only the marriage thing I'm questioning."

"Tell me more," Lisa said.

"Together, but still independent, is the strongest relationship. Marriage brings with it more than just living and loving together. It implies a long list of social criteria. With marriage, everyone else expects you to be together all the time. It limits our ability to meet and learn from others, particularly those of the opposite sex. Any relationship between genders is assumed to have sexual undertones and fuels assumptions about the strength of the marriage. The social impacts can be disastrous. If we're not married, people don't automatically put us together and we're free to develop our skills and abilities to the maximum with support instead of scorn. In marriage, one plus one is still one. Being together, with all the faith and promises of marriage without the marriage license, one plus one is three, you, me and us. Our relationship has been underground and I suggest we leave it that way."

"I get it," said Lisa. "Married we have to be together. Not married means we want to be together."

"Right. We can have all the advantages, make all the vows, just omit the legal complications," I said.

Does that mean you want to live with me?"

"I'll clean out the guest bedroom," I offered.

"Don't bother," Lisa said grinning from ear to ear.

That was twenty years ago. We live together and we love each other. We plan to get married after we both retire. Meanwhile, we've both become semi-famous in our chosen careers. Lisa is a Pulitzer Prize winning independent investigative reporter. She specializes in political misdeeds and is currently working on her second book.

I'm a financial analyst and a frequent guest on one of the cable news channels. My book hasn't sold nearly as many copies as Lisa's first book.

The best part is that our last names are different and no one has put us together. The closest anyone has come is that we've been seen 'dating' as reported by one of the gossip reporters for a third rate scandal sheet.

Finally, neither one of us has gone underground again, except Lisa as a reporter and I've seen her breasts almost every day.