After much planning and packing and hoping and me pretending it was about growth or enlightenment rather than just being alone with you for months, we loaded up your car and set sails for a faraway campsite, unavailable on most maps, but prophetical in my own heart. I had dreamed of this moment my whole life.
We were headed for Great Falls, Colorado. We didn't know anything about the town, the surroundings, or what else would be there for us for the next two months. But we had devoted that time to one another, and no matter what, we would be together for that time. So I was okay with it.
I remember packing certain pairs of underwear, picking certain clothes that I thought you would find attractive. It was my goal to seduce you this trip. We were older, I knew something about how it all went, I could make you happy. I could give you what I'd always wanted to give you, but was too scared I didn't have it for one reason or another. Now I was sure – I could fuck you.
We drove most of the way in silence. I pretended to sleep (do you remember?) and stared out the window, thoughtless, waiting for the next rest stop or CD change when it would be acceptable to talk to you. Then – even if it was a "What do you want to hear?" or "Can I get you a snack?" – I could talk to you, actually YOU would hear me. You, you, you.
There was no way I could sleep on the car ride. Everything about what I hoped would happen was exciting. I felt every movement between you and I. every time I shuffled in the seat or breathed heavily I felt you watching me, seeing me, taking me in. you were as ready for this as I was but there was so much unspoken love, so much history, all mixed up with hurt and confusion and years and years of longing. So there was a tension that was exciting and nerve racking at the same time. Suddenly, after years of separation, here we were doing really intimate things together: stopping after dinner to brush our teeth, you going inside the rest stop to get me coffee, me taking of my shoes and rubbing my feet in front of you. It was like we were really a couple all that time. We were just that comfortable around each other.
It took two days to get there. We stopped Missouri in and paid $55 for a hotel room. Of course the original plan was to get two rooms. But I think we both wanted it this way.
"You know, we really could save money if..." was all I had to say. The look you gave me assured me that you were thinking the same thing I was.
"Yeah, let's just get a room with two beds," you said.
So it all made perfect sense. We unloaded just our small bags and found the room, entering quietly and swiftly, excited.
I threw my bag on the first bed and you flopped on your back on the second bed. For a moment, I considered lying down next to you, but decided against it, thinking a shower would be nice.
"I'm going to get a bath," I said. "I need to relax from the road."
You turned on the television as I began to heat up the water, filling the tiny bathroom with steam and pouring a few bubbles into the water. I took all my clothes off, and stood for a moment in front of the mirror to look at myself.
My hair was short and messy, matted a bit from being in the car. My face looked tired but definitely happy; there was a spark in my eye that was unmistakable. My arms were tanned and plump, falling snugly next to my pale breasts, which were enjoying the steamed room. My nipples were hard out of gratitude for being let out of their shirt. My stomach was curvy, and even though at times I felt chubby, right now it looked beautiful and feminine. I was happy. I began to rub my neck, my breasts, and my stomach, imagining my hands were yours and I was seeing my naked for the first time. I was beautiful through your eyes. I lifted one leg up onto the toilet and used my hand to pull my abdomen upward to fully expose my vagina. I ran my fingers down along my soft, plump labia, pulling at them a bit toward the ends, and used my middle finger to feel for wetness. Of course I was wet; it had been building the whole trip. I was so excited to be here with you. Suddenly I remembered you on the bed, and hoped you were touching yourself to, to feel some sort of relief and to acknowledge your arousal.
I stepped into the bath slowly, letting my body sink into the bubbles and soak up the heat inch by inch. It felt so nice to be in that hot water. I still was touching myself, and once I was beneath the water and beneath the bubbles, I began to rub my clit in a circular motion, in hopes I'd be relaxed and comfortable enough to have an orgasm. I wanted to come thinking about you.
So I pictured how I wanted it to happen. I thought in the grass maybe, with a canopy of branches overhead. That felt right. I felt your slender body on top of me, your soft mouth kissing my cheeks and neck, your erect penis pushing itself on my thigh. My hand moved faster under the water. I knew I could orgasm.
Then a knock at the door.
"Did you bring any shampoo?" you ask. I call back that I did, my voice wavering a little bit, probably more high pitched than usual.
I felt nervous, silly, and like I had been in the bathroom too long. I stood up in the water and quickly rubbed soap all over my body, thinking I'd have time to wash my hair in the morning. I dried and put on my PJs and walked out into the bedroom.
You were laying down, with the lights off, turned to your side a bit. When I came closer you appeared to be lightly sleeping, probably having just dozed off. I sat on my bed for a while, watching you and thinking about the trip ahead of us, until I was sure you were asleep. Then I lay down softly next to you and spent the rest of the night in and out of sleep. At one point you put your arm around me, but I couldn't know if you did it consciously. I woke before you and slipped away quickly, hoping that if I had overstepped the boundaries, you wouldn't be upset about it when you woke.
Half a day later we were there. We followed printed-out directions to a secluded camp site whose only marker was an old wooden sign and faded paint that read "green mountain park." I paid the attendant for a week's worth, not more just in case we didn't like the site, and drove down a long winding road to the place the attendant said we could set up. There were very few other campers around. Several trailers were occupied by what may have been permanent, or at least non-vacationing, residents. Aside from three other tents, the park seemed empty. I liked it that way.
The campsite was stunning. There was a huge mountain rising sharply to the north, covered in green trees and several running streams of water. One of those streams reached the valley where we were, spilling out into a wide, shallow pool. There was an open grassy area where we could easily set up the tent, surrounded by big oak trees and pine trees. There were insects buzzing around, pollinating flowers that grew at the edge of the woods. It looked perfect in the midday sun.
The first few days there were easy and calm. We met the nearest camper, a single man with a long beard and skinny legs, whose site was at least a mile south of us. He was in the middle of his year-long journey across the United States, which he said would be done half by foot and half by train. He told us that we could catch fish in the pond and he let us take some tomatoes and potatoes from a patch he was working on near his tent. He said food grew quickly in the climate.
So with this bit of information, we began to live off the earth. We bathed at one side of the pool, and drank water from the other. The bottom of the pool was coated in silt which inevitably would get in our drinking water and food, coating our teeth with a thin layer of roughness that I eventually grew used to. We buried some of the potatoes in the earth so they would not bake in the hot sun. We ate the tomatoes first, spreading our meals as thin as we could. We shied away from hand-catching fish the way the traveler had told us to, but when we grew hungry enough on the third day, we decided to give it a try.
We rolled up our pant legs and waded out into the center of the pool, figuring our best luck might be had near a rotting tree stump coated in moss. I could clearly see the large fish swimming in the clear water, but they were so fast. I couldn't imagine holding a slimy, wiggling one in my bare hands.
But you were on one in an instant, just missing it with the reach of your hand and splashing water all around in a chase. This movement scared any potential fish away so we had to move to a different spot.
I tried one, and knew I could have had it, except the instant before I closed my hands around it, I remember how slimy his skin would feel and how easily he would slip away. So my reach fell short and he lived to swim in your direction.
You wasted no time and were on him, grabbing him hard, but keeping him under water.
