As I assume is the case for most average heterosexual males, when I daydreamed of fucking some famous movie star or singer it was normally someone really buxom and beautiful, like Christian Hendricks, Salma Hayek, BeyoncΓ©, or Denise Richards (or in their day Raquel Welch or Sophia Loren); or if I was not masturbating to thoughts of one of them then it was to someone beautiful, sleek, and athletic, such as Gal Gadot, Jennifer Lopez, Shakira, Gabrielle Union, or Jessica Alba; or -- my personal favorite -- Elizabeth Hurley. Not once before this story did I ever fantasize about a five foot tall skinny seemingly flat chested funny faced woman like Kate Micucci.
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At 30 years old I, Brad Kruger, and my latest beautiful buxom girlfriend (a younger, poor man's, Christian Hendricks) had mutually terminated our relationship a few weeks earlier, and my job as a renewable energy engineer troubleshooter had a lull so I thought that I'd do something I had wanted to do for years. I signed up with an organization called Way Out -- like Outward Bound, but a little more "spicy" -- for a fifteen day adventure in the Montana wilderness. I notified all of my usual clients that I was out-of-pocket for the next seventeen days (one day travel each way), had my mail stopped, shipped off my pet ferrets to a friend, packed my knapsack with what I was told to bring, closed up my condo, and took off.
The adventurers mostly arrived by train in Essex, Montana and met at the Izaak Walton Inn for the start of our venture. There were six women -- counting the female guy -- and four men. Gretchen, the female guide, was a big strong woman with a German accent who although friendly was also no-nonsense. At six foot three, 225 pounds naked, I was the biggest participant and the smallest was a women named Kate, who alleged that she was five feet two and 105 pounds. She might have been that when clothed -- including with her boots on -- but nude I'm sure she couldn't have been bigger than five feet, 98 pounds. As it turned out Kate also had the least wilderness experience of the adventurers.
As the literature we had all been sent when we signed up for the trip made clear, and that we had to sign a contract agreeing to, even though we were paying Way Out we were abiding by their strict rules; if we didn't we could be sent home.
Gretchen had a number of quirks. One was that she carried with her a Husqvarna 28 inch long steel axe with a fiberglass handle -- which weighed about five pounds. She used it as part of a procedure to keep people in line. Anyone who violated the rules would have to carry it for anywhere between an hour and a day. It doesn't sound like a big deal -- until you try it because it becomes both heavy and unwieldy as you're trekking through uneven terrain. We also did use it for splitting wood for campfires.
Fortunately, the adventurers were all easy to get along with and though a task master, Gretchen had a good sense of humor, a thick skin, and a sense of mercy, so we could all concentrate on getting what we wanted out of the experience rather than worrying about interacting with people with poor personalities.
On the first day at lunch Kate removed the hat that she often wore and I got a good look at her face and hair. I could swear that I had seen her before, but couldn't place her. It was only when we were at dinner that I remembered; I had never met her but The Big Bang Theory was one of my favorite TV shows and I remember her distinctive funny-like face and skinny body from some episodes where she played Raj's first pseudo-girlfriend. After dinner as she was returning from a latrine visit and alone so I approached her; I had already introduced myself earlier.
"All through the day, Kate, I was wondering where I'd seen you before," I opened. She seemed about half my size when I stood next to her.
"I have a common face, Brad," she laughed.
"In fact you have a unique face; that's why I was finally able to place you. You were Raj's girlfriend on a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory," I proudly proclaimed.
"Shhh...don't tell anyone," she giggled. She had the most peculiar timid little voice and laugh; somehow it made me feel good inside. "I had one of the leads, rather than a bit part, in Garfunkel and Oates but I guess you never saw that."
"Were you Garfunkel or Oates?" I asked with a smile.
"Garfunkel of course -- funny name for funny looking chick," she giggled again.
"So why don't you want anyone to know that you're famous?" I asked.
"They'll expect me to be funny, since I'm ostensibly a comedian, and I don't want to disappoint."
"OK -- your secret is safe with me. So tell me what's your last name so that I can tell my grandchildren I met a famous actress," I chuckled.
"Micucci -- but I'm surprised that you have grandchildren -- you don't look a day over fifty," she said with a straight face.
Since I pride myself at looking good for thirty I was stunned, until a few seconds later she chuckled "gotcha" as she poked me in the ribs and then scampered off as I pretended to chase her to do her bodily harm. As we ran past Gretchen she yelled out -- "Don't hurt him, Kate -- he's too fat to carry out if he's injured."
That caused me to stop fake running, grab Gretchen, and despite the fact that she had to weigh a good 160 pounds, turned her upside down.
"What did you say?" I asked, almost laughing too hard to get the words out.
"I said that you're the sleekest adventurer Way Out has ever had," she laughed, allowing me to turn her back right-side-up.
Of course all of the other adventurers saw everything, which given many sore feet and backs after a hard day of trekking gave everyone a good laugh and I do believe brought us all closer together.
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After that first night it seemed that Kate and I were interacting more than any other two people on the adventure. I'm sure that was amusing to the others since when we were next to each other we almost looked like different species; I really did look twice as big as she was.
Since I've been known my entire life for having a weak mind and a strong back -- qualities many women find desirable -- after the first two days I took pity on Kate and put half of the stuff in her backpack into mine. She had brought too much, and he skinny legs couldn't support the weight of her backpack so she was struggling. However, that was against the rules and Gretchen caught us. Our punishment -- although she didn't make me put the stuff back into Kate's backpack -- was for one of us to carry the axe every other hour for the rest of the day. That was no problem for me, but Kate really struggled, so I carried it fifty minutes of every one of the hours she was supposed to. Gretchen realized how difficult it was for Kate so Gretchen pretended not to notice that I was carrying the axe 90% of the time and we helped her maintain that supposed unawareness by having Kate carry it just before we stopped for every break.
By the fifth day I, and everyone else, realized that Kate had as good a sense of humor as anyone we had ever met before in our lives. Not only were her little quips -- like telling me she was surprised that I was a grandfather -- sharp, but she had an endless supply of jokes, plus she delivered them in such a seemingly clueless manner that even less-than-funny jokes seemed hilarious. Two, of hundreds of examples, of her jokes are:
--Walter (first name -- in fact I never knew any last names except for Kate's -- and never Walt) somehow let it be known that he drove a BMW i8 Coupe (for those of you unfamiliar with cars, starting price $147,500). "I have a story about a BMW," Kate shyly grinned, making everyone assume that it was a touching emotional narrative. In her quirky timid voice she continued:
"A mouse and an elephant are friends. Unfortunately, one day the elephant falls into a hole that he can't get out of. His friend the mouse is determined to rescue him. The mouse puts a chain around the elephant, hooks it up to the mouse's BMW -- I think it was an i8 -- and easily pulls the elephant out of the hole, cementing their friendship even more. As luck would have it a month later the mouse falls into a hole he can't get out of, and he calls for his friend the elephant. The elephant walks over to the hole, squats slightly, and lowers his dick into the hole. The mouse climbs up it and is rescued by his friend."
Then Kate stopped and got this perplexed look on her face; no one knew quite what to say. After she had everyone hanging she continued:
"The moral of the story is that if you have a big dick you don't need a BMW."
I do believe that half of the adventurers -- including myself -- fell off the logs we were sitting on laughing hysterically, while those who didn't fall off were ceaselessly guffawing. Walter turned red -- but eventually took it in good humor.
--In the second example a young woman named Bethany was talking at dinner about how she was taking up golf for the first time and enjoying it. In a defeated voice Kate mumbled "Yeah, I tried golf once and it didn't go so well."
By that time I was Kate's straight man so pretending that I was concerned I asked "Why, what was wrong?"
"Well," Kate continued, "I had been taking golf lessons and had just started playing my first round of golf when I was stung by a bee. My pain was so intense that I decided to return to the clubhouse for medical assistance. The golf pro saw me heading back and said, 'You are back early, what's wrong?' 'I was stung by a bee!' I moaned. 'Where?' he asked. 'Between the first and second hole' I replied. He nodded and said, 'Your stance is far too wide.'"
After a pause where Kate's face morphed into a totally forlorn expression the laughter started and didn't abate for a good three minutes.
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At certain times during our wilderness experience we became grubby enough that we couldn't stand our own smell. We would take time when we got to a creek or pond to bathe; sometimes the men would be in groups, sometimes the women, and sometimes people would go off on their own.