Francisco knew it would be easy to remember this day for the rest of his life. The ascent went smoothly, without complications. The Patagonian wind was at a minimum, the sun was projecting a short shadow. Normally, his shadow would be a short distance from his feet, but right now he looked at it, together with the shadow of the entire pinnacle, projected more than 100 meters (300 ft) below along the ridge of the mountain. He hugged his climbing partner one more time, both sharing a broad smile of success and as a way of saying "go now, see you after the abseil" with a wink. He knew that God had not planned for any of them to die today.
Francisco looked how his partner slowly disappeared down the rock face, using the rope to abseil the pinnacle. He looked at the bolted anchor; it was steady. Both ropes were tight, the knot was firm. After his friend was out of sight, his eyes were caught by a condor flying below him. Standing at one of the highest pinnacles located on top of the ridge of the mountain gave the magnificent experience of watching the upper part of the huge white-collar black bird flying underneath him. Gliding in large circles without moving its wings over that beautiful landscape. Northwards, an infinite mountain chain. Eastwards, the side of the mountain they had hiked and would need to reverse in order to reach civilization again: the last hike on rock for several hours, then the tree line leading to the forest they expended a half-day hiking through, finally that blue spot which was the lake where the adventure had started. Southwards, more infinite cordillera and some more pinnacles, also being climbed by others. Westwards... Well, there were many peaks, small glaciers leading to immaculate waterfalls, freezing creeks and uninhabited green valleys until eventually reaching fjords and the Pacific Ocean back there somewhere. He did not know of any human living or walking those valleys in front of him. This ridge was the furthest adventurous hikers went. The condor was still flying, without moving a muscle. This was the proof that God existed. How could otherwise so much beauty be created? By random events?
His eyes fixated now to the south again, a couple had been climbing the closest pinnacle there and were reaching their top. They were at a good distance, too far to read their facial expressions or hear them, but it was possible to recognize how the harness was secured to the anchor by the rope and still possible to see they were close friends by the way they hugged each other. Francisco felt curious and compared this hug he was observing with the one he shared with his senior climbing partner moments before. He quickly understood that comparing was a mistake, he could have never hugged his male climbing partner as this big brawny man was hugging that woman. His big hands were now underneath her blue top, and yes, they were kissing now. So lovely to be married and sharing a hobby like hiking or climbing! Francisco tried to change the focus, and checked if the abseil rope was still tight and loaded. Yes, it was. A brief sneak peek revealed that indeed, the couple was still celebrating after their climbing performance because at least one boob was flashed now and he was... well, kissing it. Francisco looked away immediately thinking that it was not very proper for a married couple to behave in public... well, there was not much public here other than the condor actually. He was not sure if it was completely wrong... but he knew it was completely wrong to watch. So, he looked in the other direction and started thinking about his abseil, and his next climbing route, maybe his next climbing partner. Maybe other climbing partners he would like to climb with, he visualized himself with several of the girls from his climbing community, also from school, all using the same blue top. He felt embarrassed and dug his head into his hands. He fought internally but ended up turning towards the pinnacle with the couple. He peeked through his fingers.
The woman was on her knees. The man was holding her from the hair and was moving her head towards his pelvis and away. Constantly. Rhythmically. With no stop. Francisco's fingers closed to interrupt the show, but he moved his hand away to keep watching. Both breasts were visible, and it was possible to distinguish the nipples, or was it Francisco's imagination? Francisco closed his eyes one final time and tried to breathe deeply and decided to fight his demons, but images of himself repeating the action were invading him. He felt an erection very quickly and this pushed him to act. He checked the abseil rope again, but it was not ready.
Sitting there, waiting, thinking about the priest talking at school would help. His favorite citations from the bible should work. But he realized he failed when he noticed his own hand in his pocket caressing between his legs. He realized he was wrong about the distance being too far to not hear them, or at least those moans were loud enough for him to hear, or was it his imagination again? He shouted inside himself and turned towards the south pinnacle one more time. He then got a flashback remembering the dogs from his cousin and felt immediate vertigo.
The woman had her hands on the rock, and her ass pointing upwards. Her trousers were down on her knees where they stopped at the leg loops of the harness. There was some sort of tattoo on the lower part of her back. The man was also kneeling from behind. He was holding her and forcing his pelvis towards the woman. It was like those dogs from his cousin that were mating once. Francisco was not an idiot, he understood of course that this was a technique for when a married couple wanted to get pregnant. But why not wait and do it on a bed as it was supposed to be done? Both were making love like dogs on top of the pinnacle, like under a spotlight, the rest was blurry and far away, completely out of focus.
Francisco checked his rope again, and luckily it was free now! He arranged his belay device on it, checked the system, removed his back-up, memorized the color of the rope to pull, and started walking backwards reaching the edge. An entire abyss underneath him. He looked one last time south. The man was doing nothing now, but she was turning now so her face was facing him again. She opened her mouth, taking in whatever he was giving her. It seemed she was not being forced, but willing. And Francisco was sure that you could not get pregnant by that position. He abseiled away to escape from this unholy couple that were undoubtedly demons sent by Satan, the personification of the devil itself!
He tried to focus on the abseil, but it was difficult to drop all the images he had in his head. The penis of the man sliding into the woman from behind. Sliding it in her mouth. How deep can it go both ways? Why was she forced to eat that? It had to have a disgusting taste. Or does it get bad taste only after ejaculation? Francisco remembered from those times he woke up polluted from some guilty wet dream. He knew he felt embarrassed those times but could not fully understand why now. He should not be guilty for whatever happened while he was asleep. And that blue top she was wearing. He imagined his female friends wearing it. Unfortunately, none of them had enough breast to fill it properly. At the end, the image of that demonic climbing woman improperly filling her blue top hung in his retina, with her bronze skin surely from an entire season in the sun, and her blonde dreadlocks... Please stop!
He reached the end of the first abseil. The shelf he landed on was very narrow and uncomfortable. He composed himself a bit and talking climbing shit with his climbing partner helped. They did the rope work and took the second and last abseil. He did that without even looking at the other pinnacle. Well, not exactly, he looked a couple more times without seeing anything interesting, only to realize that eventually, the couple also started their abseil.
At the base of the pinnacle they found their backpacks. Sitting and sharing a quick meal, Francisco, with lost sight, considered sharing his story. He looked down towards the west. An incline of 60 degrees on loose rock tempted him to throw a rock. He threw one. He likened his situation with the rock's, falling and rolling on the incline getting momentum, unable to stop. He decided he would not talk about the couple; he did not know where to start the story. He did not know if he should. What if he was faced with the fact that he got an erection? He struggled putting those dirty thoughts completely away. The couple had reached their pinnacle base but were discussing and yelling to each other. Francisco implored on the inside that his friend will not start a conversation about them, but the most his climbing friend did was to give a look at the couple and make one bad xenophobic joke about them.
After the meal, Francisco started to prepare for the hike down. He pulled the rope, but before the rope was completely pulled down, it got stuck somewhere halfway to the pinnacle. Darn.
* * *
She looked at Mark, today's climbing partner, starting the hike down. She did not feel like rushing after him. Not quite yet at least. She was frustrated. Not only because she had not come today, but also because of the way Mark seemed more interested in winning a bet with his friends than actually enjoying and being present in the moment. Mark would soon be out of sight, and she felt at peace recognizing that it might as well be the last time she would see him and that would be fine for her. But she should not have expected more either. It had been a good fuck. Oh my... the wind, the vertigo, the adrenaline, his tight grip... she remembered it while sliding a finger over her lower lip, checking that there was no cum left there, and looking at those boys trying to pull down the rope.
It was never easy when the rope got stuck. Newbies... she considered going over and offering some help, then at least she would have done something with meaning this week. One of the boys, the one looking youngest, was doing something dangerous now. It seemed he was using the rope that was stuck to climb up again. The danger with that if.... and it all happened at the same moment. The boy lunged, using his entire weight to get the rope free. The rope got free. He lost his balance and fell a short distance towards the west of the pinnacle. He started gliding down the incline of loose rock still holding the rope. In a moment, the boy and the rope were completely out of sight for her.
She approached running over the ridge to the other pinnacle. It took about 10 minutes, an eternity.
The one climber left at the base of the pinnacle was crying and shouting words in Spanish. She looked down at the west side of the ridge. The boy was extremely far away. He was moving, trying to climb upwards the loose rock incline. But with every step upwards, he moved two steps downwards instead. He was probably two rope lengths down the incline, so she might be able to reach him by fixing the ropes and pulling him up or something. He was still moving downwards because of his failed attempts. He would be approaching a rock edge, and it is difficult to assess what lay behind that edge.
"Stay still, do not move. We will rescue you. Are you OK?" she shouted.
