Everything started to change when Erica twisted her ankle as we were walking in the forest near her cabin. She and I have been friends for quite a number of years, and I can't remember how many times we've spent week-ends here, alone together. We met through our respective partners at the end of high-school; my girlfriend and her boyfriend had been neighbors all their life. For years, we hadn't even thought of the other as boy or girl, and later as man and woman: we simply were the third and fourth wheels of a tight group of friends. Even though we were spending a lot of time together, often just the two of us, it just seemed perfectly normal.
Suddenly, very suddenly in fact after she learned that her boyfriend had been cheating on her for the better part of a year, Erica left him. At that time I was still profoundly in love with my girlfriend Karin, and we nursed Erica back to "health" over a few very difficult months. That was about three years ago. Since, Erica has chewed through a lot of relationships, most feeling like fireworks: starting fast, rising even faster and exploding in a spectacular death.
Last year it was my turn to break up with my longtime girlfriend, Karin, over slow-growing tensions and life ambitions that turned out to be much more different than we had thought. Less violent but not really easier, our separation seemed to signify the end of our old foursome. In the end, nevertheless, even though we now lived hundreds of miles apart, Erica and I managed to keep in touch.
To keep that last relationship alive we decided to spend another week-end together at her cabin, to celebrate the Fall equinox and this year's glorious late Summer. We decided to start our Friday with what had nearly become a routine: a one hour hike to the river for a nice swim. Years ago Erica and I had found a very secluded spot on one of the banks, our very own secret nook. Strangely enough, without even deciding or talking about it, we had kept this place our secret. Even from our partners. It was ours, and we didn't think it strange at all: just two friends sharing a secret hideaway.
Anyways, I was enjoying our time together and our fast paced hike towards the river. Following behind Erica, I couldn't help sneaking glances at her legs and rump. This, too, was a tradition here: no hint of nudism or anything really our of the ordinary, but a few years back I noticed that we were both just a bit more relaxed with our clothes and glances. Karin had told me, once, that Erica thought that I was really handsome and sexy. For my part, one very drunken night, while our partners were in the swimming pool, I had spluttered to Erica that I thought that she was absolutely gorgeous. And she teased me about it for months, laughing as she told me how my eyes had strayed to her bikini-clad breasts all night.
Today she had decided to show off her legs to good effect, wearing nothing between her ankles and her buttocks. Only a very short pair of skin-tight spandex shorts below an equally tight tank top. Although I'd taken to enjoy these stolen glances, especially those here at the cabin, and despite what my drunken mouth had uttered a few years ago, I didn't think that Erica was all that gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, she has everything a woman could want, a man's woman. Rounded thighs and ass, generous hips, small waist and very large and unbelievable breasts, riding too high on her chest for their size. But all my life I've been with and fantasized about tall, lean, athletic girls and women. I really loved long, lean legs, small and firm buttocks.
Now, enjoying the golden september weather, I realized that I was placing my feet and ankles in danger: I couldn't keep my eyes away form her legs and ass. More times than I cared to think about, I felt my feet slipping or turning on a rock as we walked. The path was very familiar, but I didn't remember every little detail of it! On the other hand, by the end of our hike I'd most likely remember every detail of her legs and shorts!
In a second these thoughts were forgotten as Erica slipped and fell herself, her foot breaking through an unseen hole in the ground. She started to fall towards her right, but her right knee had wanted to go left, and she fell very awkwardly to the ground. In pain. Reflexes took over as she sat down and I unlaced her shoe and removed her sock. Fifteen seconds later, both used to hiking injuries, we had ascertained that, first, nothing was broken, and second, that it was still a very bad sprain.
We didn't have any ice packs, but we wrapped one of our towels around her foot, then poured some of our ice-cool water from our bottles. Not as good as ice, but definitely better than nothing. Fifteen minutes later her pain had subsided significantly, but it was obvious that she was not going to be able to walk for a while. Ignoring her protests I decided to leave both our packs on the side of the trail, and I picked her up in my arms. We had walked for about twenty minutes, but we both know that it would take at least twice that time to get back to her cabin.
Thankfully I was in good shaped, and thankfully Erica was only a few inches taller than 5 feet. I don't know how long it actually took, and although carrying a damsel in distress through the woods sounded romantic, it really wasn't. I took a few breaks to regain my strength, and without ice her ankle started to swell and cause her more and more pain. She was keeping a brave face but I knew how painful bad sprains could be.
I lowered her gently on her bed, and went to get some real ice. Less than five minutes later, her feet and ankle were iced and elevated on two pillows. I also brought her a warm and soapy washcloth to help clean herself up: we had set a brisk pace and the day had been really hot. Again: hot a sweaty might sound all sexy, but when you're in pain... Before leaving the room, satisfied that she was going to be okay, I saw her smile at me. I smiled back and she invited me to sit beside her. Without saying anything else, she grabbed my hand, kissed it and thanked me. Before I cold reply she shushed me and smiled again. I bided her to try and sleep before leaving her room.
Erica ended up sleeping most of the afternoon. She knocked on the wall as the old clock rang 5pm; she was thirsty and wanted a glass of water. She kissed my hand and thanked me again before letting me go: she was obviously going to fall asleep again. In the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible, I fixed myself a light dinner and fell on the large couch. When I woke up everything was pitch dark. I heard Erica knock on her wall again (maybe for the second time, waking me up?) and I got up. Trying my best to shake the sleep from my head, I grabbed a new ice pack and went to her room.
Despite the lingering heat form the day, I saw in the dim moonlight that she had covered herself in a thin blanket. When my feet bumped into her discarded clothes on the floor, I understood why. She said, softly: "I stank too badly and I wanted to clean the sweat off my body..."
Smiling, I replied: "How are you feeling?".
Waiting for her to reply, I tried my best to ignore the fact that I was sitting on her bed in the middle of the night and that she was wearing nothing but her underwear. After a few seconds trying to move her foot, she said that it was much better. She accepted the new ice pack, but it was clear that the worst was past.
I don't know how long, how many hours we spent talking very late into the night. This discussion, however, turned out to be a relationship changer. From mundane subjects we moved on to more and more intimate topics and inquiries. I became a lot more at ease on her bed, and she with the blankets: more often than not, even in the quiet moonlight, I could see the top of her panties as well as her black bra. Now, I know that sports bra won't ever make the cover of Sport's Illustrated swimsuit issues, but given that Erica had spectacular breasts, it was enough of a show to make my blood run a bit hotter.
She started touching me after a joke, gently slapping my arm with her hand after a bad one. The second time after a particularly nasty one. A few minutes later, for no reason whatsoever, she move her arm so that the back of her hand was touching my bare thigh. By then I was sitting against the wall, right next to her. It's so strange how Erica and I had spent so much time together in the past, all the while never really getting into really serious or important subjects. As the hours flew by we explored religion, politics and philosophy, as well as sharing some of our intimate memories and moments, to finally, as dawn was approaching talk about some of our most secret dreams and ambitions.
By then, we were holding hands. I have no idea how or when that happened. One of the last subjects we talked about was her current boyfriend. A couple of months old, that relationship, but somehow I had never met him. "That's not surprising, my friend." She said as dawn was starting to throw more light on her body. "I didn't really want you to meet him... Even after the first few weeks, it was obvious that the relationship wasn't going anywhere."
I didn't even need to finish the obvious question: "Why then..."
"Oh..." she sighed, "We talked about character flaws earlier... Well, one of my very worst is that I can't stand being alone. Out of a relationship I mean." This revelation didn't surprise me, as it had become clear through the years. When she continued, her voice was clearly strained: "You have no idea how many guys I stayed with even though I knew it was going nowhere... It was easy for them, even though I wasn't 100% committed: many of them stayed around just for my body... I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
The silence that followed that last admission was very painful. She squeezed my hand hard, as if to ask me not to comment. Looking at her, all I wanted to do was to kiss her. On the mouth. Opening her lips gently with my tongue and all. But I couldn't, not now, not after such a confidence. A minute later, Erica added: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. The part about my body... Here I am complaining about my own bad decisions while half naked next to you, all sweaty and dirty and probably smelly as well!" She laughed, trying to make light of it all.
Against my better judgement, perhaps because of the sudden intimacy and the late hour, I leaned towards her and kissed her brow. I whispered: "I understand, Erica." She grinned at me, and I saw her impish sense of humor flash in her eyes:
