The 'other' Bucet List

Author's Note:

Welcome readers to this, my entry in the "National Nude Day Story Contest 2020". I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Please cast your vote at the end (if you're so inclined) and know that comments and feedback are also very welcome.

Heartfelt thanks go out to

Charrla

,

Todger65

and

29wordsforsnow

who each gave of their own personal time to edit or beta-read the story. They have made this tale better, in spite of its author.

Happy reading and I sincerely hope you enjoy this little romp in the woods!

--Roo

++++++++++

The Chimney Tops trail wasn't all that long in distance—barely a couple of miles each way. So it wasn't the distance that was kicking our butts so much as the relentless uphill climb.

The mid-summer heat wasn't doing us any favors either, but at least we'd known about that going in. In fact, it was the reason Julie insisted we start our hike later in the afternoon.

Still, if someone had told me before we'd left that one of us would end up passing out, I would have put money on it being Julie, not myself. But we'll get to that part later.

As we continued our trek up the trail, the number of hikers going the opposite direction underscored just how popular a trail this was. And nearly half of them had some bit of snarky wisdom to share with us as they passed, like "You're going the wrong way," or "Hope you don't mind hiking in the dark."

But our absolute favorite was the falsely encouraging, "You're almost there!" which felt like some kind of inside joke among hikers, since the first time we heard it was barely a quarter mile in. That particular comment persisted the rest of the way up, too. But after what seemed like a full hour of hiking, I was about to say that last one myself.

"We're almost there, babe," I yelled back to my wife, trying my best to sound convincing.

"You said that half a mile ago," she quickly reminded me.

"I did?"

"Yeah, and I've been hearing it enough from everyone else. You don't have to lie to me, too," she teased.

"When did I say it before? I don't remember that."

"Uh, when we were passed by those hippie girls?"

That was enough to jog my memory. I indeed remembered 'the hippie girls'—all three of them. But she phrased it like some sort of vague question that she expected me to answer...only I didn't want to.

"I know you remember them, Ben. You couldn't keep your eyes off the brunette."

Caught for the umpteenth time.

"Um, sorry, Jules," I meekly confessed. "I didn't think I was that obvious."

"It's okay, Benji." She never called me that when I was actually in trouble. "I told you before, you can

look

all you want."

"Yeah, I know you say that, but are you sure it doesn't bother you—me looking at other women? I always feel bad when I do...and even worse when you catch me."

"You're adorable, you know that? You already know I check out other men, so it's only fair, right?"

That thought never did sit well with me, no matter how many times she reminded me of it. My Julie?...mentally drooling over someone else? Even if it was 'only' with her eyes, wasn't it still feeding her imagination?...and fueling her fantasies?...just like I was doing with the brunette?

Ooh.

The double-standard hit me like a four-pound sledge, and

that

made me feel bad, too.

"You've really gotta learn to be okay with it," she continued, as if reading my mind, "because I'm a highly proficient crotch watcher and I'm not about to let my skills go to waste."

"Oh, wow, okay, I think that's enough confessing for now." This topic of conversation was starting to make me uncomfortable.

I should have known Julie wasn't about to let me off so easy, though. Back when we'd first started dating, she declared it her personal mission in life to help me be more adventurous and break away from my 'repressed upbringing' as she called it.

"If you'd only ask, Benji, I could give you some pointers—you know, help you up your game so at least you're not so creepy about it."

"I was creepy about it, too?"

"Don't worry, I don't think she minded."

"And you would know that, how?"

"Um, a thin white tank top and no bra? Don't even try to tell me you didn't notice her pokies. Can you imagine if she starts sweating?"

"Oh god, Jules."

"And her cute little ass cheeks peeking out of her cut-offs?"

Sometimes, she was just relentless.

"I really liked her bracelet, though. That blue jade really brought out her eyes, don't you think?"

I actually did notice the jade bracelet, by the way. I'm not a complete animal.

"And did you notice her tan lines? Oh, wait, she didn't seem to have any,

did

she, Benji? So, was it her blonde friend or the redhead showing off the tan lines on her ass? I can't seem to remember."

I didn't answer, hoping her teasing would come to an end soon. Besides, it was a trick question; there was no redhead. (By the way, it was the blonde with the shorter hair that had the pronounced tan lines. Just saying.)

"How do you suppose she had no tan lines showing, Benji?" She was back to hounding me about the brunette. "You think she tans in a G-string?"

There's no way I was going to try to answer that. But it was a notion I hadn't even considered up to that point. I had simply enjoyed what I could see of her all-over tan, not wondered how it came to be.

But thanks to Julie, the thought was quickly taking seed in my mind as my imagination erupted with images of the young woman's lithe body covered in tanning oil, lying next to a pool somewhere as she soaked in the sun in a tie-dye triangled G-string bikini.

"Ooh, or maybe

au naturel?!"

Damn, Jules!

I felt my dick twitch as this new fodder for my imagination suddenly took root. Then, just as quickly, I shook my head, somewhat violently, to try to clear the images from my mind—as if that worked for anyone, ever.

Julie giggled but, of course, wasn't done torturing me quite yet.

"Aww, come on, babe. You don't think I noticed how our pace increased so you could try to keep up with them?" She giggled again after saying this, so I knew it hadn't actually bothered her.

"Okay, Jules! Enough, please. I said I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...I was...I..." I stammered from embarrassment. Sure, I'd come a long way from the shy kid I'd been in high school and even college when I first met Julie, but I still had my limits.

Fortunately for me, Julie was a master at carefully stretching those limits and even though it was sometimes quite uncomfortable when she did, I was always grateful afterward. I still have a long way to go, but I'm a much happier, much freer person now, thanks to her.

"Anyway," I decided to change the subject, or rather just bring it back to where we'd started, "I do mean it. I see more sunlight coming through, and I hear a few more people. I think we've almost made it."

It turns out I was completely wrong. It was simply a section of the trail with a few less trees and the voices were just one more family of hikers heading home for dinner—hopefully not noticing me adjusting my shorts as they rounded the corner in front of us.

We continued hiking up...up...

incessantly

up the trail.

"I so can't believe you talked me into this," Julie taunted playfully after several more minutes of quiet hiking, save for the few returning hikers admonishing us to hurry so we don't get caught in the dark.

"Uh, excuse me, Jules? For the record, I distinctly recall this being your idea, not mine."

She went curiously quiet again. It wasn't like her to back down when it came to friendly banter, especially when she's the one who started it.

"Hey, back there. Didn't you hear me? No argument? No comeback? Nothing at all?"

Still only silence, though I could hear her shuffling about, so at least I knew she hadn't slipped and tumbled all the way back down to Gatlinburg.

"Wow, I guess I really put you in your place," I bragged, rubbing it in and trying to bait her just a little bit. "That was almost too easy."

She finally countered with a loud gasp—strike that, a ridiculously over embellished gasp.

I smiled, but didn't acknowledge it. A couple of seconds later, I heard her do it again, only this time even louder. I knew immediately what she was up to—another impromptu solo improv.

++++++++++

Unless you count the single acting class she took at the local community college, Julie was neither 'trained' in the craft, nor all that good at it. But I'm not complaining, since I didn't normally pay much attention to her little thespian productions in the first place—well, not for the acting anyway. What I got out of it was the opportunity to ogle her body, practically by invitation, and without ever having to explain myself.

So, if she thinks I'm watching as 'a fan of her art' when I'm actually just openly perving on her curves, well, what's the harm in that?

Anyway, once I realized she was fully into character, I just had to turn around to catch the show.

As usual, she waited patiently for her audience of one to be ready before proceeding. And it seemed that me shaking my head in mock frustration while putting my hands on my hips was akin to a director yelling

'Action!'

She had come to a full stop on the trail and was frozen in a slightly hunched over pose. Once she knew I was paying attention, she weakly raised a hand and indicated with her pointing finger that she had some kind of important message to impart.

Her breathing appeared labored as she reached to her face to pull away what I had guessed was an imaginary face mask. Her other hand was holding onto an invisible rope, like a Parisian mime except without the stripy t-shirt and beret. And that's when it dawned on me: she was pretending to be a mountaineer, struggling up something like Mt. Everest.

She drew a quick breath of oxygen from her make-believe oxygen tank before pointing an accusing finger at me. "I'd set you straight...Benjamin..." (Insert another over-acted gasp here.) "but I...need to make..." (another gasp—this time with a little bit of wheezing, which I thought was a nice touch.) "I need to make...oxygen decisions." She went back quickly to her pretend oxygen tank and took in another wheezy breath.

"Uh-huh," I stated flatly. I'd long since learned not to provide

too

much encouragement. Even for good bits, it was best to feign indifference with her little performances.

I learned this lesson the hard way one morning, when she tried out a new southern belle accent on me and actually did a halfway decent job of it. Unfortunately, I told her as much and then had to endure the rest of the day hearing

hun's

and

yall's

and

I do declare's.

Sensing the end of her ten-second improv, and hoping to avoid hearing Darth Vader breaths the rest of the day, I brought her back to reality as quickly as I could.

"That's what I thought, Jules, and I'll take this little performance as your official surrender. This was entirely your idea and you know it. You're really cute, though. I will grant you that.

Wrong,

but still cute."

She smiled and giggled like a child hearing her mom doting over a picture she'd colored of a horse, that looks nothing like a horse. She took a deep breath—a real one, this time—then pushed herself upright and started hiking again.

I passed her again within twenty yards or so as she once again slowed to a crawl—her exhaustion getting the best of her.

Incessantly up we continued.

++++++++++

"Hey babe, we made it!" I called out, as I finally found myself walking out of the dense Smoky Mountain forest and into an open and, more importantly,

flat

clearing. The soft dirt trail gave way to shimmery black rock beneath my feet—a mix of quartzite and slate. I took in the sight for just a few seconds before turning back, in time to see Julie exiting the woods as well.

She barely even glanced at the barren mountain top behind me before leaning over with her hands on her knees and letting out a long, deep, exhale. She was clearly not as impressed with the destination as I was, but I chalked it up to exhaustion. Normally, she'd be all over this, taking so many pictures that I'd have to remind her not to fill up the SD card in our camera too fast.

"Wanna climb to the very top with me?" I asked, perhaps too excitedly.

She didn't raise her head, nor did she answer—well, not with words anyway. She simply thrust out a fisted hand, palm up, then slowly extended her middle finger upward.

"Hey now!" I protested. "Let's keep this family-friendly, please."

She finally looked up, glanced again at the mostly vertical rock face, rolled her eyes, then raised her other fist and extended the middle finger on that hand, as well. For the most part, she managed to hide her tiny grin. But I caught enough of it to know she was feeling better than she appeared.

She plopped herself onto the ground and started taking off her thin flannel shirt.

I watched quietly as she balled up her shirt and stretched her arms out then over her head.

"Yoga pants and sports bras," I joked out loud, "two of the greatest inventions horny men ever devised."

"Mm Hm," Julie chuckled. She knew I was a sucker for both.

"You go ahead. These rocks seem lonely. I'll keep them company 'til you get back. And Ben, seriously, take your time."

I scrambled up the smooth and steeply angled mountain top but wasn't quite so brave as 'the hippie girls' who had reached the peak ahead of us. They had already ditched their little hand-made sling bags and were frolicking about the rocks like sexy little agile mountain goats.

I caught sight of the brunette and immediately wanted to investigate her missing tan lines again, except she turned around while I was in mid-leer. I looked away quickly, but not before noticing her grin at me.

Caught yet again.

Maybe Julie was right, though. Maybe the brunette really didn't mind me checking her out. Regardless, I couldn't shake Julie's earlier comment about me seeming creepy and felt incredibly self-conscious about it. So, I did my best to avoid further gawking.

I clambered onward on all fours, maintaining three points of contact the whole way, until I reached as far as my nerves would allow.

There simply are no words adequate enough to describe the view from the Chimney Tops pinnacles and I wished Julie had been with me to enjoy it. I found a ledge with a lazy-boy angle to it and relaxed my body into it. The warmth of the rocks and the coolness of the open breeze lulled my body into a sleepy state of relaxation. But my eyes seldom blinked, unable to look away from three-hundred-sixty-degree view of pristine wilderness around and beneath me—not a man-made

anything

as far as the eye could see.

Little did I know at the time that I'd be one of the last people ever to perch on that particular spot—if not forever, at least for several years and possibly decades. Just a few months after our hike, two teenagers would hike this same trail we were on, except that they would start a fire—a tragic wildfire that would not only force the closure of this uniquely special place to all human traffic, but would also take the lives of fourteen people and cause half a billion dollars in damage.

Of course, I had no way to know any of this at the time. In retrospect, though, I've come away with a new appreciation for living in the moment. Had I not taken Julie up on this one last venture before heading back to the campground, I might never have had the chance to experience this place again in my lifetime.

I knew I'd never be able to describe it to her so I took a lot of pictures and mentally committed the scenery to memory as best I could. I even caught a couple of shots of the brunette in the background and fully planned on studying them in more detail later, in private.

Eventually, the hippie girls gathered together again at the trail's end, awfully close to where I thought Julie was. Even from my vantage point, I could hear their excessive chatting and giggling—I only hoped they weren't bothering her too much. But since they were the only other hikers venturing out so late, that left me, sitting on Chimney Tops and taking in the early vestiges of the sunset, all by myself

I felt privileged to be there and had become so engrossed in the landscape surrounding me, and how small I felt in it, that I'd completely lost all sense of time. It wasn't until I heard the hippie girls leaving and looked around to find the shadows growing longer that I remembered I'd left Julie alone at the end of the trail. I scurried back on all fours again, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the brunette before she disappeared into the woods, and hoping Julie wasn't angrily waiting for me.

I half-slid down the slope on my butt until I finally reached a spot where I could stand upright again. The sun was getting low in the sky and as I scanned the area that just an hour prior was packed with hikers, I realized we were going to be the very last people to visit Chimney Tops for the day. I barely caught the last of the hippie girls as she disappeared into the woods. Though she was also a beauty, she just wasn't the brunette. I found Julie relaxing behind a boulder, her head resting on a makeshift pillow she'd made from her flannel shirt and what looked like a white tank top.

I knew we didn't have much time— everyone else had left for a reason, after all—but I still didn't want to wake her, if indeed she was actually sleeping at all. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed, so pretty. I stole a few moments to appreciate this

other

beauty on display before me—my own wife.

Click.

I took a picture.

Then, to reveal a little more of her freckled face, I gently pulled a lock of her hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Without even moving her lips, she seemed to smile. Her cheeks glowed in the light of the descending sun. Her freckles took on a warm orange hue—her lips, a sunset pink. Beneath her eye lids, I imagined her hazel-colored eyes.

Click.

Another picture.

Just like Chimney Tops, I realized, my wife also possessed a beauty that no photograph could ever truly capture.

Click.

Why not? I took another picture, anyway.

I let my eyes wander across her form, following her bare neckline down to where her skin disappeared again behind her sports bra. I reached out my hand and lightly traced the spot where I knew a nipple would be hiding. Within seconds, it awakened, extending its reach toward my touch. I lightly teased it through the fabric until her lips pursed and I heard a slight moan escape.

Click.

One last photo, then I set the camera down.

I surveyed our surroundings once more, before reaching out to tease her nipple again, unable to resist the tempting opportunity in front of me. From her taut teat, I traced a finger down to the edge of the fabric, pinched the bottom hem tight between my thumb and forefinger, and lifted it up and away from her, just enough so I could see her hard nipple, begging for attention.

Her lips curled into a smile as a dimple started to form, though she kept her eyes shut. Then with both hands, she pulled her bra up herself, exposing her breasts to the open air.

I wasn't about to decline such an invitation, so I leaned down and, with only the tip of my tongue, licked around one nipple, then the other, tasting her slightly salty skin and savoring the feel of her softness.

Only then did she open her eyes, focusing them longingly into mine.

I quickly glanced around to see if anyone else was there.

"We're all alone," she assured me.