Musings, Memories and a Plan
Ann opened her eyes at first light, wondered where she was. Her eyes traced the rough-hewn logs that formed the roof of the cabin. Lying half-covered next to Gerry she looked across the way at the sleeping, unclad forms of Laura and Pat, beginning to recall the details of the previous night.
"Oh my fucking god" she mused, "this is one for the what-the-hell-were-we-thinking files!"
Sitting up on the bed with care not to squeak the springs Ann gave the room a once-over and looked for the backpack that contained their clothing. It lay at the foot of the bed, half covered by the top she had been wearing the night before. With care not to wake the others she swung her feet over the edge of the mattress and stood naked on the rough floorboards, still a bit fuzzy from the effects of the beer and pot. Pat lay sleeping on his side facing her, his cock standing at attention, Laura's arm over his chest, spooning, both of them wearing the same sleepy smile. Ann tiptoed to the end of the bed, drew back the zipper of the pack one tooth at a time and began to rummage for something to put on. She settled on one of Gerry's black concert T-shirts and slipped it over her head, the hem falling to upper-thigh. A picture of the Grim Reaper covered her full breasts, underscored by the phrase "Some Enchanted Evening." It certainly had been, and traces of it matted her pubic hair, pulled at the tender flesh between her legs.
She found a pair of her lace panties and tossed them aside. She'd enjoyed outdoor nudity since she had been in her late teens; a trip to her Aunt's summer cottage north of Toronto, she and her cousin Jeanine skinny dipping in the secluded pond, a dare that turned into a passion for reveling in sun and warm breezes on her naked body.
A morning shower sounded like a great idea, but she remembered a small stream following the road they had taken to this place and that sounded like a better idea. With any luck there would be a sufficiently secluded spot that could be used for an impromptu bath. Pulling a bright yellow bath towel from the backpack, she sat in silence at the picnic table in the kitchen and slipped her sneakers on. Gerry turned over in bed as she grabbed her cigarettes and tiptoed to the back door of the cabin. It opened with a small squeak and she stepped out, alone, to breathe the humid morning air.
Ann tossed the towel over her shoulder, fumbled for a cigarette and lit it, cupping the flame of the lighter to protect it from the gentle breeze that felt wonderful on her naked legs; invisible fingers reaching under the T-shirt, caressing her skin.
She stood, thinking about the way Laura had looked with Pat the night before, about the juices running over Laura's chin as the muscles of Pat's ass tensed and then relaxed. Ann couldn't help but picture herself beneath Laura's boyfriend, scratching his well-muscled back as he pumped her full, her nails biting deep into his flesh. She'd never cheated on Gerry, but her mind was racing to other, uncharted territories this morning. Was it really cheating if her husband was watching? How would it feel, to see her husband fuck her best friend, both of them lost in each other, making love? How would it be afterward, awkward silence? Laughter? Ann felt an anxious arousal building with each new image conjured onto the movie screen of her mind's eye.
I need to cool off
, she thought to herself, taking a final drag on the cigarette. The smell of dry pine needles made her think better of flicking the butt away.
********************
Ann, alone in the woods, leaving the path, walking a few yards through the brush to a large flat rock growing out of the mossy ground behind a smattering of raspberry bushes.
She squatted beside the rock, hiked the T-shirt above her hips. A ray of sunlight forced it's way through the fine mist overhead to fall across the spread cheeks of her naked behind, striking sparks from the stream that gushed from her overly-filled bladder. The warm liquid splashed onto her sneakers then ran in little rivulets through the pine needles. She closed her eyes and let the feeling of relief wash over her, the smell of urine, moss and pine all tumbling together with the sounds of waking birds and leaves whispering in the gentle breeze of the new morning. Motes of dust played out a fairy-dance to the whine of insect song, announcing from on high that the day would be more than warm.
As the final droplets fell, she heard another sound. Someone, no, a pair of someones: Walking down the path from the direction she had come, feet crunching through the debris on the forest floor. Ann froze. Visions of being seen like this raced through her head as she crouched, nearly naked and clearly visible from the path should anyone choose to take a good look into the brush. She suppressed a compelling urge to cover up, to pull the black T-shirt back down over her nakedness, but they were already too close. Nothing for it but to make like a statue and hope they passed her by. When they were almost upon her she stopped breathing, immobile; quiet as a reptile waiting for its prey, thankful that she had just finished relieving herself.
Through the thin cover of brush she saw them. An older couple, the man in his mid-thirties, streaks of gray in a black beard neatly trimmed to accent his jaw line. She guessed he stood just over six feet, a good foot taller than she. His hair was long, loosely confined in a ponytail that hung down his naked back to the waistband of his jeans where an olive-drab shirt hung, stuffed through his belt. Red mud streaked his right leg from mid thigh to the tip of his encrusted leather boot.
Just a couple of hikers
, Ann consoled herself,
No big deal
.
The woman was younger, probably in her early thirties. Her hair, confined by a baseball cap, escaped in little dark-blond wisps that brushed across her gentle features. Her curves were striking, accented by her bikini top and the tight spandex workout shorts that clung to her hips like body-paint. Full-figured but not at all out of shape, she had the kind of body you didn't get without a lot of work. They walked hand in hand, exchanging playful looks and smiles but no words. Ann watched, unnoticed, as they walked past; the sounds of the woods all but drowned out by the beating of her heart. When they vanished from sight she stood on shaky legs, her knees screaming abuse for the way she'd treated them. Pulling her shirt back down over her bare bottom she thought again of her teenage years; memories of sneaking to the pond with Jeanine tugging her by the hand, the two of them crouching low and slipping like shadows through the woods. She had no idea what was up, only that the older girl had insisted on silence, had promised a surprise. Ann let herself be led to the pond, the two of them peering through the vines to see Aunt Martha and her boyfriend lying naked in the sun, sharing a blanket spread upon the grassy bank.
It was the first time she had seen a hard cock and she stared, amazed by the sight. The two girls in the bushes watched as Aunt Martha stroked her boyfriend's rigid member, finally taking him into her mouth, his back arching as he closed his eyes, groaning. She felt a wetness spread between her trembling legs as her aunt bent over, her full breasts grazing her boyfriend's thigh, her lips parting as they engulfed the swollen head.
Jeanine moved closer, both girls straining to see through the small gap in the wisteria. Ann felt an arm slip around her thigh as they watched, spellbound. Aunt Martha had managed to take all of his cock by now and his hands twined in her hair, his hips pumped up and back, fucking her face as she made muffled sounds in the back of her throat. Ann started, almost cried out when she felt Jeanine's fingers caress the back of her knee. The girls locked eyes for a moment, staring at each other; Jeanine pressed a finger against her lips, motioned with a tilt of her head to keep watching.
