Excited energy propelled me back up the steep hill, along the narrow path through the forest, as I reveled in my good fortune. My wildest voyeuristic fantasies were nothing compared to the dreamlike reality of this steamy summer morning. Back to the main trail, I hiked for a couple hours more, occasionally grinning to myself as I recalled the events at the bottom of the hill.
Lunch time approached, and I decided to hike back to my car and head into town. Drenched in sweat from the days' activities, I thought it best to go to my motel room for a quick shower before grabbing a bite to eat.
I started the shower, adjusting it to a nice, comfortable, lukewarm rain. Stepping in, the water over my head, and hitting my chest, felt cooler than it did to my hand when I started it up. It was a little bit of a shock, and raised goose bumps all over, but quickly became much needed refreshment as my body adjusted to the temperature. Bowing my head under the stream, the sight of water pouring down my own body took my mind back to what I witnessed earlier in the day.
I closed my eyes and pictured the svelte little blonde under the stream of her garden hose. Droplets in the sunlight shimmered over her body. It was like a daydream sequence from a movie, only it happened right before my eyes. My cock responded to the images my memory provided.
I reached for the little bar of motel soap, and pulled it from its paper wrapping. Still picturing her rinsing herself off under the hose, I began to wash my upper body. I soaped up my chest, and let the suds run down my stomach, following the bubbles with my hands, and added soap to the hair above my semi-hard cock. I lathered up as it grew to full erection and thought of the water pouring over her breasts, dripping from her hardened nipples, as my right hand slid to the base of my cock, and gripped it tightly. Stroking its length, I spread soap over the swollen head and squeezed tighter. I dropped the bar of soap, freeing my left hand to support me against the shower wall, and I began to relive the entire experience. Thoughts of her lying on the towel, fingers working over her pussy, filled my minds' eye as I furiously pumped. Orgasm approached quickly, and my knees nearly buckled, as several shots of cum hit the shower wall in front of me. A few slow strokes milked the last drops from my hyper-sensitive cock, and I finished washing up, and rinsed my mess from the shower wall as my hard-on subsided.
Food quickly became top priority as I dressed and walked over to the adjacent restaurant for the second meal there in is as many days. Walking past the tourism brochures again, I smiled at the thought that my adventure started as a result of one of those pamphlets. The place wasn't busy at all; only one table had customers, and the stools at the counter were empty. Along the outside wall was a row of empty booths, which is where I chose my seat. The lone waitress, an older brunette, with a gray mid-length skirt and white button up blouse approached.
"We don't have any lunch specials," she said, "but we serve everything on the menu all day, even breakfast." She laid a menu on the table in front of me, along with some silverware and a napkin. "What can I get you to drink, Hun?"
"I'd just like water," I said, with an appreciative smile, and glanced toward the table nearest me, occupied by a couple who had already received their food.
My heart skipped a beat, and I gasped at the realization that my dream girl from the morning hike was sitting there, with a man whom I presumed was her husband. He had his back to me, and she faced me, although at a little bit of an angle because my booth was left of their table. From what I could tell of him, he was a big guy. Thinning hair on top, and well tanned, as if he worked a lot outdoors. A glance at her ring finger confirmed her attachment.
I hadn't even realized the waitress left me, before she came back with a big glass of ice water.
"There ya go, Hun," she said as she dropped it off and headed back toward the kitchen.
I looked back to the table and carefully considered if I could be mistaken; that this might not be the exhibitionist who performed so beautifully for me that morning. Her mid-length blonde hair certainly looked the same, and she was quite pretty, although I could see her face much better in the restaurant than I could from the woods. She wore a white sundress, with light flowery patterns. Thin shoulder straps held up the loose fitting top of the dress, covering a generous pair of firm breasts, but still allowed a modest view of cleavage. If she wore a bra, it was strapless, as the straps of the dress would have done nothing to hide it otherwise. As she sat in the dining room, legs crossed, the hem of her dress rested at about mid-thigh. What convinced me it was really her was the unmistakable pink tint to her skin. Her face, shoulders, arms, upper chest, and legs all had that slightly sun burnt look. She also wore open toed sandals, with her red painted toe nails on display.
My eyes must have lingered on her too long. Looking to her face again, we made eye contact. She was looking back at me with a cute little smirk. I glanced quickly to her lunch date, who paid no attention as he attacked his plate. Her eyes darted downward, toward her lap, and back to my eyes, a signal to look down. When my gaze reached her thighs, where the hem of her dress rested, she uncrossed her legs. As her upper leg lifted from its rest, more bare thigh came into view. She turned slightly in her chair toward me as her foot reached the floor, which left her thighs slightly parted.
"Okay, sorry to take so long, have you decided what you want?" I was snapped out of my trance by the waitress, who stepped into my line of sight, interrupting my upskirt opportunity.
