Introduction
It was my sister Suzie's idea. For her birthday I arranged for a spa day for the two of us before we went out for a night on the town with some mutual friends. Suzie and I had been discussing one of my biggest hobbies, hiking. During an interlude in our conversation Suzie looked on in stunned silence (and possible admiration) as I flirted and ultimately propositioned a young female masseuse. Despite her being both straight and spoken for we exchanged contact details (and a few nights later at my flat some bodily fluids as well).
"I just can't believe you Amy. How do you do it?" Suzie asked when the girl had gone.
"Charm with a healthy dose of confidence thrown in for good measure. Sometimes, not even that. I just seem to find myself in the company of horny people looking for sex. I'm as likely to be seduced as seduce." I had replied.
'And of course, you know she'll get in touch?" Suzie persisted.
"I do, just like I'm positive I'll pull someone when we go out tonight. The only questions are will it be a man or a woman, or perhaps even both?"
Having thought on it, as we were leaving to head back to our respective homes to get ready for our night out, Suzie laid out her challenge:
"Here's a chance to combine your two favourite pastimes, hiking and shagging. You just mentioned you've always wanted to hike the Thames Path from the source to Tower Bridge."
"Go on." I said, intrigued.
"Walk the path and along the way, you are to get as much sex as you can. In fact ideally it'll be through sex that you get a bed for the night."
"I take it I'm not to be too blatant about it and go up to people and say 'let me stay at your place tonight and you can shag me'?"
"Um, no. And obviously I'm aware of the potential dangers posed to an attractive woman out on her own, especially if she is 'putting it about'. So let's say you limit it to women. Besides, men are too easy."
Suffice to say, I agreed to the challenge and took three weeks out of my (not so) busy schedule, though two may have sufficed. I timed it so that the weather had the least chance of being bad and I wouldn't have my period during the trip and then started prepping for it. Getting the right equipment, going for longer and longer strolls to get up my stamina and researching the route, include places to stop. I had to have a back up in case I failed to pull, which west of Oxford was what I expected.
Perhaps I should explain a little about me and my proclivities. I'm what some people might call a slut, maybe even a sexual deviant and I'm damn proud of it. I've not been without sexual companionship since I lost my virginity. I've never had a boy or girlfriend, just bed partners of both sexes, monogamous relationships filled with romance can wait until I'm at least thirty. There's very little I haven't tried; threesomes, foursomes, orgies and much more -- apart from the obvious taboos of course. For instance I once had separate affairs with both a husband & wife -- until they found out and both dumped me, which I was pissed off as I was the one who arranged for them to find out. I was getting bored with them and thought it would be a good way to end it with both if we all had a threesome, but alas it never worked out that way. I'm financially independent courtesy of a multi-million pound lottery win by my parents when I was young, so my days (and my pussy) were mine to fill as I so chose. At the time of writing I'm twenty-six, size ten, near shoulder-length ginger hair possessing a permanent 'wet effect', extra-large, slightly saggy tits and areolas the size of two-pound coins.
What follows are extracts from the diary I kept of my travels. They were written when and where I had the opportunity, which meant some times the day after and I've omitted all the entries where I didn't get any action as well as almost all my observations of travelling along the Thames, which I might say was very nice, beautiful countryside with picturesque scenery, towns and villages.
Day One Tuesday
I set off this morning from a field near Kemble in Gloucestershire, where there was a weather beaten marker stone containing illegible writing, that apparently proclaimed it was the start of the Thames River. A few paces away were a collection of rocks from which at certain wet times of the year, water would spring up. After trudging through fields I came to a path and walked beside what looked like at times to be little more than a brook or stream.
I made my first stop in a small village called Cricklade beside the river and stayed the night at a quaint pub called the Raging Stallion. I'd booked a double room there the previous night. There weren't many people in the pub and the handful that were just weren't my type. That was fair enough. I doubted that I'd get much action anyway until I got to large towns and cities like Oxford & beyond. In fact, I'd booked a double room only because it was the only one they had available at such short notice. However, everything changed when I went to the bar for my last drink of the evening, a non-alcoholic one due to the walking.
"What can I get you miss?" The barmaid was about nineteen or twenty. Shorter than me (I'm only 5"3), pear-shaped physique with hair like mine, only slightly longer and coppery. She wore boot-cut jeans and a turtle-neck sweater which hugged her figure and showed off her ample cleavage.
"I'd like a decaf coffee please." I replied noting her reaction, she couldn't keep her eyes off me. Immediately prior to my placing my order, the landlord had emerged from behind the bar to declare: "Time ladies & gentlemen please!"
The pub had emptied of customers by now and I was only served because I was a guest and had asked for coffee not alcohol. Behind me, the landlord and another barman were stacking chairs and stools and clearing away empty glasses and bottles.
