Up In The Mountains Ch 02

I woke up on an uncomfortable couch feeling more than a little sore. As I opened my eyes in the still unfamiliar room, I had a fleeting feeling of disorientation. I didn't know where I was or why I was I feeling so sore. In an instant, as I awoke fully, I recalled I was a few days into a two-week trip to a lakeside village in Northern Italy. I was with a large group of friends celebrating our recent college graduation. The reason I was sore was I had just hiked up a mountain the day before with Lindsey. She was the cute, smart, and funny girl that I had formed a fast connection with on this trip. That thought brought back the memory of Lindsey's mouth wrapped around my cock on the top of the mountain as she smiled up at me with sparkling blue eyes. I sighed happily as the full recollection came back and I felt my cock shift in my boxers. As I sat up, I decided I was also sore because I had slept several nights in a row on that couch. Not for the first time, I thought that I needed to do something about my sleeping arrangements.

The rest of the crew was stirring as well. As I sipped a hot coffee a moment later, I listened to everyone making plans and decided I wanted a lazy day after the hike. Lindsey had already planned to spend the day with her friend Cindy anyway. I passed a relaxing morning and afternoon reading a history book by the lake shore and soaking in the views.

The next opportunity I got to spend any time with Lindsey was at dinner later that day. We wandered to the heart of the village with a small group and got dinner at a casual restaurant. Naturally, we made sure to sit next to each other. Since we had decided to spend the day apart, we had plenty to talk about.

"How was the art exhibit?" I asked.

"Good," she said. "But it wasn't my taste, really. It was a modern art gallery."

"Oh, what's more to your taste."

"Landscapes, I would say," she answered. I rolled my eyes.

"I guess I should have seen that coming," I teased her. "'Nature lover likes landscapes' probably isn't headline news is it?"

"Are you calling me boring?" She said with feigned offense. "I thought we went all through this on the first night here. We agreed that neither of us is boring."

"Not boring," I clarified with feigned seriousness. "But predictable, maybe."

"Predictable? That sounds like someone I know. Hmm," she said putting a pensive finger to her lip. "I bet you spent the morning reading a book about Italian history or something." She had me there, but maybe I could spin it for levity.

"Well, I don't know if I would call it history," I quibbled. "It was more like a biography of one of the great Dukes of Milan."

"Ok, I was wrong to begin with," she confessed. "You are in fact very boring," she said with a smile. We were still teasing each other and laughing at ourselves when the food arrived. We spent the rest of the long meal talking almost exclusively with each other. The more we got to know each other, the more I realized how compatible we truly were. Besides out mutual love of the outdoors, we learned that we shared tastes in music, books, and movies. It had been clear that we shared the same sense of humor from our first meeting. Much of the evening we were laughing about something one or the other of us had said. We also broached some more serious subjects of conversation, but I kept feeling like we were pretty compatible. It wasn't that we agreed on everything, but we got along so well.

That evening, back at the vacation rental, I got roped into a poker game at the dinner table with some of my buddies. Poker night had been a big deal among my group of friends going all the way back to our freshman dorm, so I could hardly refuse. As the game was humming along, I glanced over and saw that Lindsey was talking and laughing with her good friend Cindy. I was glad she wasn't bored, because I felt a little bad for leaving her alone so I could play.

A little while later, Cindy came around the poker table to let everyone know that a large contingent of the group was planning to take a ride on the passenger ferry on the lake in the morning. A few of the guys said they would go. Cindy set a hand on my shoulder.

"You should come too, Mark," she said with a knowing look. "Lindsey is coming." That earned a few raise eyebrows and curious looks from my friends around the table. I glanced over at Lindsey who was smiling in my direction over her wine glass. Previously, she had seemed a bit shy about any public display of our affection. I gathered that we weren't being so circumspect anymore.

"Then count me in," I replied. I gave Lindsey a wink before returning my attention to the game.

Whatever had changed between Lindsey and I over the last few days, my sleeping accommodation hadn't. Later, as things settled down for the night, I was a little jealous of the established couples among our group as they disappeared off to their private rooms. I shared a long kiss with Lindsey before she went off to bed in the room she shared with some girls. I was still stuck out on the couch. I let my hands explore her sporty figure as we embraced. Before we parted, she softly groped my crotch with a giggle.

One might think that, after our recent intimate encounter up in the mountains, I would sleep more contentedly. I didn't. As I tossed on the lumpy couch that night, I was hungry as ever to be with her again. It was late before I drifted off.

The next morning, Lindsey tiptoed out to where I was sleeping and leaned down to wake me with a kiss on the lips. Pleased with what I awoke to, I kissed her back and reached a hand out to pull her to me. She slid a hand down my chest and under the waistband of my shorts to gently stroke my cock to hardness. I sighed softly as she continued to work it with her hand.

She broke off the kiss. "I missed you last night," she whispered in my ear. She kissed me again and her hand stroked me faster. After a few moments, I started to feel the pleasure building in my groin and I was breathing deeply. I grunted as my cock pulsed and spattered cum inside my shorts and over her hand. She laughed playfully and slowed her stroke as she massaged out the last drops.

As she slid her hand out of my shorts, I sat up and we kissed again. It wasn't long until we started to hear the sounds of the others getting up too. Lindsey rose from the couch with a giggle and a satisfied smile and slipped back to her room to get ready for the day. I slinked off to the bathroom for a shower. As I enjoyed the warm rinse, I thought to myself that we really needed to get this sleeping arrangement changed.

Later that morning, we trooped down to the ferry dock with the others to meet the boat. The passenger ferry was two decks, with the upper deck open to the gorgeous early summer weather. Lindsey's golden hair was radiant in the sunlight. I sat with her while the boat got underway from the pier. The others found their own seats in twos and threes around the deck. As the boat pulled into the center of the lake, Lindsey was starting to tell me something interesting.

"Did you know that the lake is so deep that the bottom is below sea level?"

"What? Really? But we're in the foothills of the Alps here. We must be hundreds of feet above the sea."

"I know," she nodded. "The lake is hundreds of feet deeper than that."

"Yikes. Can I go back to shore?" I joked. "That'll give you the creeps. There could be anything in there." I was examining the blue surface from over the railing.

"What, are you looking for the Loch Ness Monster, or something?" she teased poking me in the rib. "We're in the wrong country! I know you aren't as interested in geology as me, but I would have thought a history buff could manage basic geography."

"That deep, huh? So, it's not a man-made lake then?" I deadpanned looking at her with mock gravity. Her only answer was a soft punch in my arm and a smile. After we continued our usual teasing and banter a bit longer, I steered the conversation toward what was potentially a delicate topic. For all the time we had spent so far getting to know each other, neither of us had probed very deep into what the other had planned after school. With both of us just graduating, where did that leave this connection that was growing between us?

"So," I ventured, "what are you doing for the rest of the summer?" She kept smiling, but I could see in her eyes that she also thought this was dangerous ground.

"Well," she said, "I am moving to Boston." I tried to conceal my disappointment. From my perspective, that was not a great answer.

"Oh," I said. A pause. "Neat. It's a cool town. What are you going there for?"

"It's a really great opportunity, actually, " she said. "I've been offered a job with the state in the agency responsible for environmental protection." She leaned forward as she enthusiastically went on, "It's just an entry-level position, but it will be awesome experience and it pays pretty well for a recent graduate."

"That's awesome!" I said with genuine enthusiasm. I couldn't help but be happy for her. "That's perfect for you!"

"Right?" she said. "I'm really lucky to snag this kind of work." She was beaming now just thinking about it.

"Well, congratulations," I said. I leaned over and gave her a one-armed hug.

"So, what about you?" she asked. "I know that you want to go into archaeology. Are you off to dig up Noah's Ark this summer or something?"

"Well, for the summer, I actually don't have much planned," I answered. "But this fall I am starting my master's in archaeology."

"Right, I remember that. Where are you going?" she inquired.

"At our school," I said.

"Oh." A pause. "So, you'll still be on the west coast?"

"Yup." She fidgeted with her hand a little.

"Is it a good program?" she dutifully inquired. Then smiling she said, "I have to say I don't know much about the merits of any particular archaeology program." I smiled back and chuckled.

"No, I shouldn't think you would," I admitted. "Actually, yes. It's a prestigious program, so I was lucky to get in. Especially since my undergrad is not in the same field."

"Great!" she said. "You should be proud." She smiled and laid a hand on my knee. I think we were both happy for each other, but also disappointed.

So, there it was. This thing between us, whatever it was, probably had an expiration date. I lifted my arm to invite Lindsey to lean against me, which she eagerly accepted. As she snuggled into me, I felt her let out a long quiet sigh.

The rest of the boat ride was very pleasant. We picked up another strand of conversation and soon we were chatting and flirting just as before. I was starting to think that it was impossible for us to have a bad time together. I guessed we would probably continue to have fun here whatever the future may hold. The trip had several days left after all.

After the boat tour, Lindsey and I decided to go window shopping together in the village. We held hands as we moved from shop to shop down the cobbled streets off the central square of the town. After a time, we turned a corner and found ourselves standing in front of a scooter rental shop. I have a weakness for motorcycles, so I stopped to check out the sharp looking modern Vespa scooters lined up on the sidewalk. I used to have a small motorcycle to commute at school because it was cheaper than a car and easier to find parking in a college town. A motor scooter is just a small motorcycle with a step-through frame.

"Do you ride?" Lindsey asked interested.

"Yes, a little. I have my motorcycle endorsement."

"That's so fun! I've always wanted to ride. We should rent one!" Her blue eyes had the excited glitter I was finding to be nearly irresistible. "Let's do it!"

"Well, we can at least look into it," I said. I was a little hesitant to go riding in a strange country. I'd already noticed the driving culture seemed pretty different to what I was used to. "We're not exactly dressed for it," I added. In particular, I was concerned about her skirt. While she looked fantastic in a knee-length red skirt and a form-fitting striped top, I thought a skirt might be tricky on a scooter.

"I think we could manage," she said. "Besides, we've just about exhausted anything to see in the village, so we would have a chance to explore some of the other towns up the lake. See some more scenery? Maybe some more historical sites?" This last she said with a teasing prod at my arm. I'd only known this girl a few days and she knew exactly how to convince me.

"I guess that's true," I said, my defenses failing. "Let's talk to them."

"It will be just like Roman Holiday," she said.

"First of all," I said, "this is not Rome. Second of all, didn't that scooter ride go pretty badly?" I was only pretending to resist now and she knew it.

"Oh, who remembers. Just give them your license."

"Did you know that Italian scooters have their roots in motor scooters used by the U.S. Army during the invasion of Italy?"

"No. And you're stalling, let's go." We were both laughing as we ducked through the door. While the scooters outside looked new and spotless, the shop was anything but. The place reeked of motor oil and grease and bore the wear and tear of decades of use. For all that, it was kept neat and I thought it had charming character.

The shop's owner was perfectly friendly and spoke excellent English. In no time, he convinced us to take a bright red scooter at the end of the row outside. We asked about protective gear and he tossed us two jackets. We also rented some 3/4 face helmets. While the jacket I got was unremarkable, Lindsey's was a flattering brown leather riding jacket. With the jacket, helmet, and her skirt, she looked like a model out of a Vespa ad.

We found it was easier if she got on the scooter first. She tucked the back of her skirt under herself so it would not fly out behind us. When I took my place in front of her, I was sure to sit on the front of her skirt to similarly anchor it. As she snuggled her fit body up against mine, I had the thought that maybe I hadn't appropriately considered all the advantages a scooter ride had to offer. I turned to give her a quick tutorial on leaning with me as I steered the scooter. As I told her to hold tight, she reached forward to hold my hips and squeezed me with her thighs. Naturally, I immediately imagined all the other reasons she might wrap her legs around me and I was already forgetting my earlier reservations.

I was still pretty cautious at first. I wasn't used to carrying a passenger and she had no experience riding. We took a few turns around the quieter streets of the village. Within about ten minutes, I felt like we were working as a good team and we set out down the road out of town. Just as we about to leave the village, we rolled past our friends, Mike and Cindy. A tap of the scooter's horn got their attention and they laughed and waved as we darted past. Tooling around on a scooter in Italy might be a cliché, but it was also going to be a lot of fun.

The main road around the lake was a two-lane highway that arced easily along the curves of the shoreline. The scenery was beautiful as expected, and we did indeed pass several fascinating historical buildings. We explored along this road for much of the rest of the morning until we decided to stop for some lunch. We turned off the main road into the streets of a village and circled around looking for a promising place to eat. We settled on a cute café with metal tables out front.

There was limited parking in the center of town, but right in front of the café was another scooter backed into small space on the end of a row of cars. There was just enough room for our scooter to roll back right next to it. After securing the bike, we settled into an empty table in the outdoor seating area.

We were pleased to discover that our waiter was friendly and happy to share some tips about the best things to see around the lake. Noticing our helmets and the scooter parked nearby, he enquired about how we were enjoying the ride. It turned out that he was the owner of the scooter we had parked next to.

"It's been wonderful," I said. "We've had a really scenic trip around the lake. Beautiful."

"My friend," he said, "the coast road is fine, but you should take your girlfriend here on a ride up in the hills. It's a more exciting ride and the scenery is better." I noted Lindsey blush a little at being called my girlfriend, but I also noted she did not correct him. The niceties of our status were a little complicated in any case.

"That sounds great," I said. "Do you recommend any particular route?"

"Sure," he said. "It's just a few kilometers up the road from here." I produced a tourist map and spread it out on the table. The waiter dug a pen from his apron and scribbled a few marks on the map as he explained the route. The highlight, it sounded , was a scenic pull-off in the trees near a cliff that overlooked the lake below. It didn't sound too hard to find the way.

"Make sure you ride all the way up," he said. "It's a great spot. Very romantic. Very quiet." This last he said to me with a discreet wink. I saw Lindsey blush again. As the waiter wandered off to fetch our order, Lindsey and I huddled over the map and eagerly considered the possibility of a ride up in the hills.

After lunch, we geared up and got back on the road. We motored down the coast road at a leisurely pace looking for the turn-off. Lindsey spotted it first and pointed.

"There!" she said. "Let's go!" She patted my shoulder with her hand for emphasis.

Taking my cue, I rolled on a little more throttle as we curved off the main route onto the winding road the looped its way up into the hills. Lindsey laughed with delight in my ear as we leaned the scooter over into the sharper turns. I was riding at the edge of my skill on an unfamiliar road that twisted its way higher. It was exhilarating and also terrifying. Lindsey was hanging on tight, but her laughter in my ear told me she was still enjoying the ride. Maybe I should have been more careful, but I was enjoying the challenging road. Maybe I was trying to impress Lindsey as well, which is never a good idea on a bike.

Suddenly a delivery van backed into the road in front of us as we were leaning over into the next turn. With no time to choose a course of action, I pulled the bike upright, missing the van by inches, and braked hard. Now we were running in a straight line at the curving guardrail. The rear tire locked as I desperately tried to stop us, but we stayed upright and skidded to a halt just inches short of the rail.

"Fuck!" I shouted and punched the console in front of me. "Watch where the fuck you're driving!" I shouted over my shoulder, more in shock than in anger. The van driver had also slammed his brakes once he saw us. He made a sheepish gesture of apology. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and waved back that it was alright. I made sure Lindsey was okay, and she laughed nervously at the close call. I could tell she was also a little shook up. Once we collected ourselves a little, we set off again at a very slow pace. Lindsey held me very tightly in silence as we continued up the road. I felt awful that I had been so reckless.

A few twists of the road later, we came to the turn that should take us up to the pull-off with the view of the lake. Still taking it very slow and steady, I turned up the lane. Maybe another kilometer later, I saw a track that disappeared into the trees. It led to a small parking area beside an abandoned building. The building looked like it had recently been a place for tourists to stop for a refreshment, but it was empty now. There was no one around. As expected, the far side of the small lot was near a drop-off with a stunning view down the valley over the lake. I pulled the scooter up to the edge and parked parallel to a low wooden rail.