Geocaching

Foreword: Geocaching, for the uninitiated, is a relatively new activity that combines high tech gadgetry with old-fashioned treasure hunting. Through the official website, one can find the GPS (global positioning system) coordinates for hidden caches in a given area. Using a GPS locater, the hunter can home in on and eventually find these caches. Generally, they just contain a logbook and a few trinkets that can be exchanged for one the hunter has brought.

* * * * *

Tim dabbed the sweat from his nose as he plopped back behind his desk. One thing he never cared for about living in Texas was going outside during his lunch break in the summertime. The thirty-second walk from his air-conditioned car to the air-conditioned office was enough to make him uncomfortable. Even now, in late September when it should be changing back to that nice crisp autumn feel in his native Midwest, it was still hot here. Still, the warm winters made up for it.

He flipped his computer back on a checked to see how much email had accumulated in the last hour. Six new messages, he noted. Five were from the persistent and annoying Francis in accounting asking him about the status of the big purchasing order he was working on. The sixth, however, was from his wife, Brenda. That had to be better than hate mail from accounting.

Hey hon!

I found a new geocache that looks pretty cool. I think it should be easy enough to get to that we can do it straight from work. I'll bring some munchies along. The trail starts in the main parking lot at MacArthur Park…you know, just off Pflaum Rd. There are supposed to be several containers, one leading to the next, though they're all pretty close together and easy to get to.

See ya at the first site! N30 19.450', W97 49.880'

Love,

Brenda

p.s. – I have my GPS with me!

Tim and Brenda had taken up geocaching just over a year ago. The activity involved using GPS coordinates and clues provided on the Internet that led to hidden caches around town and in parks. Participants, after finding a cache with the help of a GPS locater, typically wrote an entry in the journal at the cache and occasionally would take or leave a small trinket. The two of them had taken up the hobby more as an excuse to get out of the house and see new places than anything else.

They had done most of their geocaching on the weekends when they had ample time to get lost or enjoy whatever park the cache was located in. Once, though, they had agreed to find one cache after work. Tim thought it a bit odd that Brenda had suggested this on the spur of the moment, but he was game. It have him something to look forward to at the end of the afternoon.

Four more emails, three phone calls, and a couple pages from Francis later, five o'clock finally rolled around and Tim left the office, waving good-bye to a couple co-workers on the way. He hopped in his car and made it to MacArthur Park in good time. There were half a dozen other cars in the lot, but no other people in evidence. Tim was fairly sure that this park was primarily used for hiking and attracted most guests during the weekend. He parked his car in the shade of a giant oak, right next to Brenda's.

The two of them had been going out geocaching often enough over the summer that he just kept his GPS locater, along with compass and pen and paper, in the glove compartment. He collected the basic gear and locked up the car. In the vicinity of the parking lot, there was little around aside from a handful of picnic tables, a couple trailheads, and lots of trees. No sign of Brenda, either. He turned on his locater and let it get a good signal while fishing out the scrap of paper upon which he'd scribbled the coordinates that Brenda had sent him. Once they were entered, the locater indicated that the waypoint was about four hundred feet off to the west. Tim chose the trail that seemed to head most in that direction.

As he walked, the tree canopy interfered a bit with the signal. When it caught up, though, he was confident that he'd taken the correct trail – two hundred feet to go. The heat of the late Texas afternoon was still present, but in the shade of the trees and with a dry breeze that had picked up it wasn't uncomfortable. As the distance to the waypoint decreased, the GPS also indicated that the cache was off to the left of the trail. Sure enough, there was a mowed clearing with several more empty picnic tables over there.

From the picnic area, the locater suggested that it was still another thirty feet further. Tim walked into the clearing and spotted a little nook along the tree line. Almost immediately he spied the stark white of a plastic lid in the undergrowth. Not a very well hidden cache, he thought to himself, though it was supposed to be part of a series of them. As he pushed a shrub aside to pull the small plastic box out, it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Brenda yet. Her car was already here and he was sure she'd said to meet at the first waypoint. Furthermore, there was no way she could miss an easy waypoint like this. Maybe she had just gotten bored waiting for him and had wandered off to look around, he reasoned.

The container was about the size of a shoebox with a watertight lid - very typical of caches. He was surprised at how light it was, but then reminded himself that it would only have a note and coordinates for the next waypoint, no logbook or goodies to trade just yet. He popped the lid open and pulled out the neatly folded sheet of typing paper.

You'll find the next instructions at N30 19.462', W97 50.020'. You're on your own!

The instructions were handwritten and underneath them was a red lipstick kiss. Tim smiled, recognizing the handwriting as Brenda's. The lipstick kiss was something she'd always done when sending him letters back in their college days. He entered the coordinates of the second waypoint, folded the note back up and returned the box to its hiding place under the shrubs.

From the clearing with the picnic tables, his GPS locater told him that the next waypoint was about a tenth of a mile to the southwest. He continued on down the trail, wondering if Brenda was having a joke at his expense. It wasn't even close to his birthday, so he wasn't worried about walking into a surprise party.

The trail, which was little more than a well-worn dirt and gravel track, came to a fork. The arrow on his locater was indicating left, so he took that path. A couple minutes later, the distance closed to within about twenty feet. Given the moderate tree cover, that was about as accurate as he could hope to get. Just ahead on the trail were a bench and a placard describing some of the local flora and fauna. He poked around the bench, looked through some of the undergrowth, and even looked down the steel refuse can. No container. He backtracked up the trail about twenty feet and then carefully inspected both sides. Finally he found it nestled in the gnarled roots of a tree and loosely covered with a couple rocks. Better hidden than the last, but still close enough to the trail that he didn't have to resort to tromping through the thistles.

He popped the lid and did a double take. Not only was there another folded sheet of paper, but there was a pair of stockings neatly wrapped around it. Tim set the box down and unfolded the stockings from around the note. Thigh-highs, he noted. This was getting a bit more interesting. He unfolded the note.

The next bit of instructions are at N30 19.436', W97 50.110'. I was getting a little bit warm, so I took off my stockings and left them in the box. Hope you don't mind!

Again, under the writing was a red lipstick kiss. Tim rubbed the stockings up against his cheek, savoring their smooth feel, and then placed them and the note back into the box. Brenda was definitely up to something he thought, eager to get to the next waypoint. Once it was programmed in and the box carefully stashed back in its hiding place, he hurried off down the trail.

The locater told him that the next waypoint was two-tenths of a mile away, west-southwest. A jogger nodded in greeting as they passed going opposite directions. Tim could only imagine what the jogger was thinking of him – a guy dressed in nice slacks and polo shirt carrying around a funny looking yellow device in the middle of a park. He grinned and pressed on.

He lost the signal for a minute as he passed through a thicker section of the woods and then came upon a clearing. The trail veered off to the south along the tree line, but his locater was pointing more westerly. The grass was tall but sparse and posed little challenge as he cut across the field. One hundred twenty feet, the locater told him. There was a utility box in that general direction, directly underneath some power lines that cut through the park. As he neared the utility box, the signal veered just off to the side a bit. A small thicket of mesquite trees shaded some small shrubs as well as another white-lidded box. Inside were another note and a sheer white bra that Tim had bought for Brenda the previous Valentine's Day.

Next point is at N30 19.502', W97 50.182'. Don't keep me waiting!!

Again, it was signed with a lipstick kiss. Tim's heart started beating harder and faster as he held the sheer bra. This was very unlike Brenda. While they were comfortable with one another's bodies in private, to his knowledge Brenda had never gone without a bra in public before. It was just something she refused to do. The idea that she might have taken this one off out here in a public park was starting to arouse him. He had always tried to convince her that with her small, firm breasts she'd definitely be able to pull off the bra-less look, but his arguments had fallen on deaf ears.

Tim hastily entered the next set of coordinates into his GPS locater and then stuffed the box back into the shrubs. He folded the bra and put it into his pants pocket, assuming that Brenda would want it back eventually.

His locater was pointing northwest, well away from the direction the trail was going. He set off cross-country straight for a larger section of trees. As he got closer, he noticed that there was a narrow trail cutting through the woods. Either a game trail or a little-used man-made one, he pressed on quickly.

Under the thick canopy of trees, he lost his signal for several minutes. When he reached another clearing and the locater reacquired its position, he found he was almost on top of the next waypoint. Just a little off the trail to his left, in the shadow of a fallen tree and covered with some loose leaves, was the next box. As he picked it up, he tilted it slightly and looked through the opaque plastic to confirm his suspicions. He smiled.

"You little devil," he muttered as he opened the box and removed the next note and the sheer white panties that were part of the matched set. Wherever she was, whatever she had planned, Tim was up for it. She must have known how much this would arouse him, doing something so uncharacteristic like this. He wished he had worn roomier slacks today.

You're almost to the end. Next coordinates are N30 19.524', W97 50.198'. Mmmm…I feel much cooler now…

Tim's legs were trembling he was so excited. In two years of marriage, their sex life had been rather uninspired and decreasingly frequent. This would be a welcome shift in Brenda's behavior if it were as it seemed. He kissed the lipstick impression and stuffed the letter back in the box. Her panties joined the bra in his pants pocket.

His GPS locater led him off the meager trail he'd been following and skirted the edge of the trees. Through a desolate section of the park he walked, less than a tenth of a mile now from his next waypoint. He went up a hill and through a patch of sparse trees. As he crested the small rise, he caught a brief glimpse of a small stream gurgling cheerfully through the woods just a short way up ahead. His eyes also caught a bit of pure white off to his left.

Brenda, wearing a simple white sundress that she had sewn herself not two months earlier, was sitting upon a blanket spread over a flat outcropping of rock. Under the rock, the spring-fed stream formed a small pool. The setting was as warmly pleasant as his wife's smile. As Tim made his way down to her, she rose to greet him. Her dress was buttoned down the middle except for the last foot above the hem at her knees. Tim made no effort to hide his arousal and no effort to avert his eyes from Brenda's chest. While he couldn't tell for certain that she was braless, his imagination convinced him that he could discern a difference.

"Hi honey," she said. "I'm glad you didn't get lost on the way here."

"You were tempting fate leaving that many different clues," Tim replied. "What would you have done if I couldn't have found one, or if the battery in my locater had died?"

"Oh, I had faith in you," she said as she lifted herself on her toes to give him a kiss. Tim embraced her and kissed back enthusiastically. As he wrapped his arms around her, he slid them down her back and grabbed her ass. No panties, he confirmed happily.

Tim pressed his tongue against her lips and she opened her mouth for a moment before breaking the kiss and playfully pushing him away. "Don't rush everything at once," she said. "First, we have dinner waiting."

Tim heaved a resigned sigh and settled on the blanket. While Brenda fetched food from the basket, bending over with her firm ass shamelessly in his face, Tim removed his shoes and placed them beside hers. She placed crackers with assorted meats and cheeses along with a bunch of grapes on a plate. Two champagne glasses followed, along with a bottle of sparkling white grape juice.

"So," Tim said, "what inspired this little outing?"

"Oh, I just wanted to do something special, something different," she replied. "While you were out on that business trip the other week, I spent a couple afternoons looking for a good location to set this up." He opened the bottle and filled the glasses while she finished preparing the food.

"Well, I must admit that I'm very impressed. This was exceptionally creative and romantic."

"Thanks," she said as she turned toward him, affording him a view down her dress. Yup, he thought to himself, no bra. He had but a mere glimpse of her small dark nipples, but it was enough to fully arouse him once more. He adjusted his seat slightly.

They ate and drank, making small talk about the inanities of their respective day. They playfully fed each other grapes and enjoyed a private, quiet moment in the secluded setting.

Tim then topped off their glasses with the rest of the sparkling grape juice. "A toast," he said, raising his glass to her.

"To what?"

"How about we toast to the most wonderful geocache in the world," he said. "And, to the wonderful, beautiful woman who dreamed the whole thing up."

"Then let's also toast to the wonderful husband who inspired me to go to all the work," she added as they toasted and drank.

When they finished, they shared another moment kissing before Brenda broke it off to pile the plate and glasses back into the picnic basket. "It's still hot out," she said when finished. "Why don't we soak our feet in the stream?"

Brenda took Tim by the hand and led him to a lower rock shelf that was just above the water's level. Tim rolled up his pant legs and they both dangled their legs over the side. Being spring-fed, the water was surprisingly cool and clear. A turtle, startled by their presence, dove off a low-hanging branch and quickly swam away.

"Mmm," she moaned sensually. "This feels so nice." She wiggled her toes and poked playfully at Tim's feet.

"Almost as good as air conditioning," Tim replied jokingly.

After a few minutes of playful kissing and touching, Brenda stood up in the knee-deep water and purposefully walked away from Tim. As she got deeper, she lifted the hem of her dress higher and higher to keep it dry. When well out of his reach, she turned and blew him a kiss.

With a perplexed look on his face, Tim asked, "What are you doing out there?"

"Do you want me?" she asked in a sultry tone of voice she rarely used but that could make him agree to anything when she did.

"Like never before," he said honestly.

"Then you might just have to come get me," she said and gave him an exaggerated wink.

Tim stood up slowly, cringing at the shock of cold water seeping up his pant legs. As he moved to walk toward his wife, she started backing up into even deeper water. She had the hem of her dress pulled up nearly to the top of her thigh. Then, abruptly, she slipped and fell backward, submerging completely in the water.

Tim leapt forward even as she came sputtering out of the pool. Water streamed down her hair, darkening it from sandy blonde to almost brown. Her dress was soaked through and clung to her skin. Tim couldn't help but admire how it accentuated her lithe form, enhanced the beauty of her curves. The cold water brought her clearly visible nipples erect.

"Graceful as usual, hon," Tim said, smiling. "You okay?"

"Ugh," Brenda replied. She wiped the water from her face and slicked her hair back. "Yeah, that's me, Grace." She gave him one of her best goofy grins.

Tim gazed unabashedly at her and Brenda returned the look with seductively knowing eyes. She glanced down at the bulge in his pants and said, "I take it you still want me…all of the wet, uncoordinated me?"

"Honey," Tim replied, "you have no idea how fantastic you look right now."

She followed his gaze down to her chest, to where the wet dress was plastered to her dark, protruding nipples. "Oh," she said coyly. With both index fingers, she started rubbing both nipples in tight concentric circles. "Is this what you're looking at, sweetie?"

A gulp and nod was about all Tim could manage. He plowed forward though the water to his wife and wrapped his arms around her, their lips meeting in a furious tongue-dueling kiss. Brenda wrapped her hands around the back of Tim's neck, holding him close. Tim's erection pressed hard between them, eager to be released.

His hands worked their way around from her back to her breasts, massaging her hard nipples with his palms. Brenda responded with more fervent kissing and a grinding of her pelvis into his crotch. He broke off the kiss with her lips and nibbled his way down her neck. Brenda leaned her head back, exposing all of her neck to his attention, and moaning with a deep, primal passion. After a moment, Tim continued downward, removing his hands from her breasts so that he could kiss, lick, and nibble at them through the cool, wet fabric. Brenda responded by slipping a hand down to his bulging erection right at the waterline, stroking and massaging it through his soaked khakis.

After several minutes of intense kissing and fondling, Tim gave in to desire and deftly began to unbutton his wife's dress from the top down. Upon finishing the fourth button, he paused to slide a hand inside the dress and cup her small breast. It was cool and damp from the water, but firm and responsive to his fingertips. Brenda returned both hands to his head, bringing him back to firm kiss while he continued to undo the buttons to the bottom of her dress.

Tim slid both hands inside the damp dress, parting it to the sides as he wrapped his hands around her waist and down her bare ass. She had a wonderfully firm, round ass. His hands continued down below her cheeks and around her hips to the front, where he slowly began to work them back up her thighs and over her pubic bone. He stopped abruptly and in shock. Breaking off the kiss and looking the grinning Brenda in the eye, he ran his fingers back across her pubic bone and down between her legs through her slit to confirm what he thought.