Forty

Running Squad

The sport of running is not for everyone.

It brings aches and pains, it's hard on the body and you often experience discomfort when you hit the wall. But it can be a rewarding pastime for those who stick with it, and it brings a sense of satisfaction along with health benefits and a kick ass physique.

I was a long-time member of our local running club and I attended sessions with almost religious dedication. It was the thing in my life that I enjoyed most. Work was mundane and home life was a drag.

We ran a few times each week, alternating between early morning and evening sessions and there was a longer run scheduled on Sundays. People came to whatever times suited them and the culture was very informal. We were mainly a social group - definitely no Olympians in our midst. The club had been going for decades, and some of us were long standing stalwarts. We had a mixed membership: young and old, men and women, and all levels of fitness. Everyone was welcome.

Our training routes were generally through the local streets, around the lake and amongst the college grounds - generally flat and safe which accommodated the different demands of the group.

I guess I used the camaraderie of squad to substitute for the lack of intimacy at home. My wife and I had drifted apart emotionally through the years. We lived together but really had very little in common and conversation was thin. I tried to get her interested in sports and running but she flatly refused.

"What woman would possibly be interested in that?" She was dismayed. "You'd get all hot and sweaty. Yuck! No thank you! You can keep your mad running for yourself and your dumb friends." I repeated invitations occasionally but she was never amenable.

Instead, she was more interested in watching TV, coffee with colleagues or drinks with the girls. She loved going shopping with similar minded women, I think for dresses, but I was never sure what they were actually shopping for. From time to time, she would even have weekends away with the girls, but I was never invited.

A Newcomer

At the end of one particularly hot summer, a petite young Asian woman arrived alone at our run squad and simply joined in when we set out for the warmup. I thought she must have been a local student because the college kids tend to start squad when they return from summer break. But it turns out I was quite wrong.

I noticed her because she looked out of place and a bit disoriented on the first day. She didn't look like much of a runner, carrying a little extra weight and endowed with a solid build. She wore a regular cotton tee shirt and gray sweat shorts. She didn't even wear runners - just casual canvas sneakers. To her credit, she made it to the end of the session, and then started coming to more.

After the first session, I thought she might have been one of the early dropouts. She was strong and had some fitness, but she was not running fit. I could tell that the early sessions were really hard for her as she puffed hard and had to walk the final segments back to base. The club has a week of free sessions before you need to join up, and when she turned up in the second week, I knew that she'd become a signed-up member. It's no guarantee that you'll stick with it, but it's the first step.

I wouldn't say that she was blessed with any special innate talent for running. But what shedid have was perseverance and determination in spades. She attended every week and she just got better. She even began coming to multiple sessions, and her form and speed responded in kind.

By the end of the first month, she'd acquired some better running gear, following the trend of wearing tights and a crop top, along with proper running shoes. Under the guidance of our coach, her running posture improved significantly and her body rewarded her with better stamina and strength.

Our club is pretty friendly but being populated by amateurs, we lack any formal introduction processes. Whenever the Asian girl arrived, I would smile a greeting to her and she returned the gesture, but we had never actually spoken. Eventually I stepped up. I'd overheard her name in group conversations, and I even checked the sign-on register to confirm that I'd heard right.

"Josephine, right?" She looked surprised. "I'm Ev."

"Hi."

"Good to see you've joined our club. It won't be long and you'll be a leading the pack."

"I don't know about that," she replied. "I'm just looking to get a bit fitter."

"Well, running will do that for you," I declared, knowing from experience that you won't regret it if you stick with the sport. Trust the process and the results will follow.

Josephine. I've always found it curious how Asian families come up with their western names. I'm sure that their names are entirely appropriate in their own language, but somehow the western names that they choose don't quite mesh. They choose names that are antiquated, or just out of fashion.

Joy, Wendy, Agatha. No-one in western countries choose those names anymore, but Asians seem to have an affinity for them. Maybe the name had some traction in France, but personally I'd never met another Josephine.

Not that I could really talk. Everett is a pretty unusual name, even for an older white guy. Everybody at squad simply called me Ev. In fact, newcomers didn't even know my full name, attested by the fact that many of them greet me as Evan. I didn't bother to correct them anymore.

"How are you finding the sessions Josephine?"

"It's good," she replied with a sigh. "Actually, it's tough. Really tough. I thought I'd be better at this. You make it look so easy. I'm trying hard to come to more sessions, but when I think about how much it hurts, sometimes I can't bring myself to leave the house." Her English was near perfect, with the obvious Oriental background, but her speech contained the twang of our local accent.

"Well, I think you're doing great," I encouraged.

"I just need a bit more motivation," she lamented. "A kick sometimes."

A thought came to me and I made the suggestion. I hoped it wasn't too forward or threatening to ask. "I drive here, so how about I pick you up every time that I'm coming to a session? That way you'll feel obliged to come because someone is waiting for you?"

"Really?" Her face lit up with enthusiasm "OK!"

As a result, we fell into a routine, where I'd call by her apartment each time I was on my way to training, and wait out front, and without fail she would appear at her front gate and we'd travel to squad together.

The trip from Josephine's apartment to run squad was only a short distance, so our time chatting was usually cut short. After a friendly greeting, we would always discuss our respective days. I never had much news to report, but I enjoyed listening to her.

I soon discovered that Josephine was not, in fact, a student. Rather, she worked in retail at a couple of local convenience stores for her livelihood, and she would often lament her dull work. I guess young people all went through that stage of life, working crap occupations for low pay before climbing a professional ladder. Even the grad students at squad seemed to work in cafes and bars, holding down part time jobs to fund their degrees.

Invariably the conversation would turn to running topics. She was always keen to learn anything to do with the sport and she would lap up every morsel I had to offer. Hints on nutrition, training programs, postures and drills - she listened to it all, and as the weeks and months went by, she put it all into effect as her running improved in leaps and bounds.

After nine months of dedicated training, she had blossomed as an athlete. When she ran it appeared almost effortless. She had a nice gait, quick cadence and a relaxed posture. And with every week she became faster and faster.

Soon enough Josephine burst through the 8 minute mile pace in the regular run sessions and she seemed capable of maintaining that pace for the long runs too. That kind of performance put her near the forefront of the women runners in the club, and she was knocking on the door of many of the quicker men too. Sometimes I had to put on a surge of extra effort to keep ahead of her when we were doing the speed sessions.

A few months after that, she had become one of our top women runners. By the end of training sessions, even intensive ones, she looked like she'd hardly exerted any effort at all. Her crop top betrayed a few sweat marks and her face had a glean of perspiration, but she was otherwise unflustered.

In the span of one short year she had transformed herself as a runner. She was the epitome of grace, with an effortless style, great a back-kick on the sprints and high knees to keep her motoring. She was a textbook runner for the middle distance.

She had transformed her body too. Her legs had developed into muscular and toned springs. Her calf muscles were pronounced and she exhibited hamstring muscles that generally hung loosely on her leg but flexed like an engine when she ran. She had lost weight, sporting a slender body with a flat tummy boasting visible abdominal muscles. But best of all, her ass was strong, round and bulging with glute muscles.

I had watched her evolve physically with her dedication to training. Throughout her journey, I loved to spend some of the training sessions running behind her, watching that hot ass in running shorts that fitted tightly in the crease of her behind. With every step, her butt muscles flexed and relaxed, and I loved to watch her running action. Her body would remain straight and true, her hips level and her legs working like pistons while her pony tail swished from side to side.

While Josephine's fitness had improved no end, there was still one curious unhealthy practice that she hung onto. At the very end of every training session, she would roll herself a thin cigarette, and slowly indulge in a smoke. I thought she'd let go of the habit, but despite my repeated warnings, she persisted.

I couldn't really talk, because I had my own vice, being addicted to caffeine. Without fail, I'd have a coffee after the morning sessions and I'd down a coke and maybe even an energy drink after the evening warm downs.

The brief chats after training and the short conversations on the drive to and from squad were not enough. Eventually, Josephine suggested that we go for lunch after the Sunday long run. We were finished squad by 10am, but we were always hungry, and turned up to whatever café or restaurant was open early enough to accommodate us.

Sometimes, lunch would extend for an hour or even two. We'd talk the whole time about everything and nothing. The weather, politics, travel experiences. We'd gossip about the other running club members, what's happening in the district, how we liked the food. At the end of each conversation, I was always amazed how the time had flown by.

I loved being in her company and found her so easy to talk to. It was like a breath of fresh air to be able to speak honestly. I loved hearing about her own views and opinions and her background back home in Asia before she moved over here. The conversation was always interesting, usually gentile, but occasionally she would dip into more saucy topics.

Most of all, I loved to watch her mouth while she spoke. She was endowed with beautiful half-moon loops that formed a perfect arc to frame her mouth. I tried to keep eye contact during our conversations, but I knew that my gaze wandered to watch her lips as she talked.

The fullness of her lips seemed to perfectly match the curves of her Asian eyes and with a cute button nose to set it off I found her face stunning. I knew that she was attractive when she first arrived at squad, but as time went on I found her more and more beautiful. I wouldn't call it an infatuation, but I did look forward to seeing her at run squad with great anticipation. During my down-time at work, my imagination travelled to a happy place, playing back pictures of her face in my mind.

It would not have surprised me at all if she descended from a royal line. A lineage from a culture that valued beauty and elevated the most attractive women to the highest echelons. An Oriental dynasty that selected eligible females for the beauty of their lips to pass down through the generations. In my mind they had achieved perfection with her. But what I felt was irrelevant. She was a young beauty living a single life near the city. I was serving out my time in the outer suburbs. I was just happy that our paths could intersect for these few moments of bliss a couple of times each week.

Sometimes, she would talk about her dating experiences, and I listened intently, trying to picture her in glamorous clothes, all made up, courting eligible gentlemen. I only ever saw her in athletic attire, so it was incongruous to think of her on the dating scene. There was something exhilarating about vicariously living her dating encounters, although I admitted feeling a tinge of jealousy that it was not me on the receiving end of her romantic attention

Occasionally she steered the conversation to my domestic life.

"Did you ever have children with Mrs. Ev?" She knew my wife's name, but insisted on anonymizing her.

"No, it never eventuated," I replied.

"What about you?" I asked. She'd never mentioned any children, but who knows in this day and age.

"No, of course not. Could you imagine?" She shook her head as if it was an absurdity.

"We tried for a while," I said, "But we couldn't make it work." I remembered how I was close with my wife back then. Without children as a point of focus, we followed separate pursuits in the subsequent decades and our lives diverged, apart from a shared house.

"Sounds like you had a lot of practice trying," she giggled. "It must be good being married and getting as much sex as you want. Like over the years, how many blowjobs you must have got. It must be a man's dream come true."

"Um," I replied. "I know exactly how many."

"Really?"

"Yes, zero."

"What?" Josephine exclaimed.

"That's right. She's never been open to it."

"But what about sex?"

"Yes, that still happens a little bit."

"Like how many times a week?"

"Oh, I think we're on a different page there Josephine. Maybe a few times a year."

"Oh God," she declared. "Poor you. I think that would kill me. Sorry, that sounds rude and arrogant. But that's even less that I get. And I'm a single girl."

"Sure," I qualified. "But you're a girl. So you can get as much as you want."

"I don't think it's quite like that," said Josephine opening up. "I mean, a random hookup can scratch an itch, but there's still missing something. Like, there's no intimacy, you know what I mean?"

I knew exactly what she meant. If she had put out the offer, I would have fucked her then and there.

"Would you call this a date now?" I asked her. "When we catch up for lunches like this? Is that what you'd call it?"

"Let's not give it a name," she replied. "Let's just enjoy what we've got." She reached across the table and touched my hand.

My Embarrassment

One evening at running squad, I suffered the most embarrassing incident of my life.

I shit my own pants trying to run too fast.

The evenings were becoming cooler as the seasons progressed into fall. Somehow our region is a bellwether for the ailments of winter time. As the days cool, immune systems relax and we spend more time indoors at risk of infections, the inevitable spread of colds and flus and bugs takes hold. It's happened every year in the past, and I'm sure it will continue forever.

During work that day I didn't feel one hundred percent. It was a nondescript kind of malaise that wasn't in any particular part of my body. I didn't have a headache, my throat wasn't sore and my gut didn't churn. But somehow I felt low on energy and I couldn't even eat all of my lunch.

I wondered if I'd fallen victim to the first virus of the season, but it can be easy to convince yourself that you're on the cusp of falling ill, for nothing to ever eventuate. From past experience, I knew that the best strategy was to press on like normal, and wait until any sickness really made itself apparent. Big mistake.

I was also aware of the commitment that I'd made with Josephine. I had promised that I'd offer her a lift to every session. I didn't want to let her down and I'm sure she wanted to maintain the discipline. I concluded that I had cornered myself into going to squad.

We arrived as normal, and Coach Paul delivered the briefing. We would be conducting a fartlek style of run that night. The fartlek came from Scandinavia apparently and was successful in conditioning their elite runners. They would follow a path at moderate speed, and then at random times runners would sprint to a landmark. Apparently it was supposed to prepare the body for both endurance and cardio bursts.

Paul led the group and we travelled the gravel paths around the lake. Every now and then he would shout out "utility pole" or "next intersection", and it would be the signal for the group to pick up pace to the nominated landmark.

I ran in a small balloon with Josephine and a couple of twenty-something men. I found the slower pace OK, but during the sprints I found myself sweating and cramping in my stomach a little. The banter in our little group became competitive, and between us we were keeping score on who managed to reach each landmark first. I hadn't even won any of them.

"Parked car!" shouted Paul and I spotted an old Mustang around 200 yards ahead. This was my opportunity to get a point on the board and I hit the road. I pulled ahead but few moments later, Jo drew alongside me. I could tell that she was putting in all of her effort from the way that she held her hands open and pumped her arms. She looked ahead and I too focused on the car. I was running at one hundred and ten percent, determined to remain ahead.

I felt a pang in my tummy. It was like a cramp that moved around and then I felt an urge to fart. I continued to press on, running hard, feeling my whole body tense. I didn't want to let any gas slip out of my butt -- every runner knows that is a dangerous proposition, so I clenched my ass tight. Alas, it was of no avail as my body decided that it was going to expel the runny shit that has migrated through my insides.

With only ten yards to go, my innards let loose and I felt a giant explosion in my shorts. I won't go into the details but it was disgusting. I made a loud and obvious noise, and it smelt like high heaven. Running shorts have the underpants built in, and mine were made of a loose mesh. The brown mess ran down both of my legs and soaked into my socks.

"I got you --," started Josephine before she realized my situation. Her face shifted from a triumphant smile, through a look of disgust and into an expression of embarrassment for me. I felt it too. The rest of the group congregated at the parked car, ready to continue running the next segment.

As they pulled up, each member of the club in turn made the same discoveries. "What's that smell?" they would each remark, and then when they discovered the source they would follow up with their own version of, "Oh my goodness."

There was nothing available to clean me up and I was in a state of utter embarrassment, so I did what seemed completely logical to me. I simply ran off, back towards my car. I didn't say goodbye, I didn't explain, I didn't say sorry. I just ran.

When I returned to the car, I laid a towel on my driver's seat. I slipped out of my disgusting attire and dumped my socks and shorts in the gutter and drove home to clean up. The smell in the car was bad enough, and I kept the windows down.

As I drove home, I realized that I had abandoned Josephine at squad. I was simply so ashamed about my accident that I thought only of myself. Later I realized that I'd left her to walk home alone in the dark. Hopefully someone else offered her a lift.

I didn't return to running squad straight away out of embarrassment. I'd never had anything like this happen before, and to be honest it came out of the blue on the night.

I made an appointment at my doctor to get checked out. She looked me over and gave me a few tests. I explained the symptoms and the nature of the accident.

"Maybe you should take things a bit easier, given your age," she suggested. "Tell me about the activities at squad that night. Were they more strenuous than usual?"

I explained what I was doing at the time.

"Hmm," she mused thoughtfully. "Be careful. Older gents chasing after younger athletes doesn't always end how you expect it to."

Return to Squad

I got a few messages from club members asking about my health and if I was OK after the incident, but the only messages that really mattered to me were the ones from Josephine.

I decided to stay away from squad for a couple of days to let things blow over, and just in case I really had caught a virus or something. I was so ashamed about the poo incident that I didn't reply to any of the questions, even Josephine's.

Across the next couple of days her inquiries got more urgent.

"Are you OK?", "What happened the other night?", "Are you still sick?" "Are you receiving these messages?"

My condition didn't get any worse. In fact, there was no condition. It was like that night represented a transient ailment that came out of nowhere and disappeared again straight away. After three days, I decided that it was time to return to squad.

"I'm coming back to squad tonight," I messaged Josephine. "No health concerns. All checked out. Do you want a lift?"

She replied with thumbs up and a happy smiling emoticon.

When I pulled up at Josephine's place for Thursday night squad, she was already waiting out front, wearing running tights with a cardigan to keep her warm. She hopped in the car and turned in the passenger seat to face me straight away.

"Are you OK Ev? I was so worried about you. I didn't even know you were ill. Was it a tummy bug? Are you over it now?" Her questions came gushing out.

"I'm alright," I replied. "I think it was just a 24-hour virus or something."

"I'm so glad," she replied and rested a hand on my upper thigh. I felt a thrill rush through my body at her touch.

"Don't worry. I don't want to give up squad."

"Thanks so much for coming back," she replied, looking into my eyes with sincerity. "It's seeing you each time that really inspires me to keep coming back."

I offered a nonchalant smile, but in reality my heart was melting on the inside.

When we got to the running squad congregation spot, everyone gathered around me asking how I was feeling. I know they were being kind and empathetic, but I still felt shame.

I was waiting for someone to announce some teasing joke or to tell me to take it easy, lest I experience another accident, but no-one ever did. I wondered how many of them thought I was over the hill and my incontinence was a sign that I was too old for running.

The Thursday run session went smoothly. Perhaps Coach Paul arranged a slightly easier session than usual, but I made sure not to push things too hard. Afterwards, Paul cracked open the venerated ice box which was filled to the brim with soft drinks and beers. I grabbed a Cola for myself and a Sprite for Josephine.

People gravitated around the ice box, but then gradually spread out into their little cliques. I received a bunch of pats on the back with well wishes. "Good to have you back." "Glad you're feeling better." "Hope you're OK now." That type of thing.

Josephine and I retreated to a low wooden log fence and slung our asses over the edge as we sipped our drinks.

"How did your run go tonight?" she asked sympathetically.

"Yeah fine. No problems."

"You're not feeling like shit anymore?" she teased me.

I looked at her with faux seriousness, but we both knew it was all in jest. "Actually, age is going to catch up with me some time," I mused.

"It catches up with us all," she replied. "I'm turning forty next week."

"What?!" I exclaimed. I found her claim utterly incomprehensible. I'd been friends with her for over a year now, but her age had never come up in our conversations. To be honest, I thought she was in her twenties. Thirty at the outside. The grad students in her running peer group were all in their mid-twenties and she just looked like one of them.

Perhaps it was the timelessness of her flawless Asian skin that fooled me. Perhaps it was her youthful attitude.

"I thought you were twenty-something," I replied.

"Well, I'm not!" she contradicted. "But age doesn't really mean anything."

"Fuck. I'm nearly 60," I despaired.

"Does your dick still get hard?" she asked in a cavalier way. I didn't expect that.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. It was mostly true.

"Well, age doesn't matter then. It's just a number."

I didn't know how to respond to that. Every now and then Josephine injected a risqué remark, and it always tended to throw me. The lewdness of those occasional comments always contrasted with her elegance.

"Are you having a party?" I asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't have enough good friends, or the money to really fund a real party."

"That's a shame." I wondered if I would have been invited if she did throw one. Surely so. I got to thinking about what level of friendship she'd classify me as.

"I want to do something else instead," she said. "Something for me. Something that I've always wanted to do."

"What's that?"

"Camping in the mountains."

"That sounds like fun."

"Do you think? Would you like to join in?"

"Sure, I guess so," I replied. "When were you thinking of going?"

"Saturday."

"That soon? Isn't it meant to rain this weekend?"

"The forecast says there's a chance of rain. But that means there's a chance of fine weather too. I'm happy to take the risk. Anyway, it's only rain. I remember you giving me a lecture one time about consistency, and saying that even if it was raining, it was important to get out for regular training. Same deal, right?"

"You've got me there," I admitted. I didn't like being a hypocrite.

I tried to think about what her camping event would be like and how I'd fit into the frame. I conjured an image of a campsite with tents pitched in a circle around parked cars and a roaring campfire in the center. I imagined her young friends dancing barefoot around the flames, drunk on cheap booze, singing modern songs out of tune with reckless abandon and I wondered how they would accept me into their fold. I concluded that I would have limited shared experiences with the next generation and I imagined the shit conversation. I didn't want to go all the way out to the mountains to be isolated. I could achieve that in the comfort of my own home.

On the other hand, I didn't have any other plans for the weekend.

"How many do you have going?" I asked.

"Just you and me."

I gulped.

"Can I ask you another favor," Josephine asked.

"What's that?"

"Do you have any camping gear?"

"Sure. I've got a tent and a cooker. I've probably got some lights that still work. And a sleeping bag. What else do you need me to bring?"

"Actually, I don't have anything at all. I haven't been camping since I moved here. Can we share your stuff?"

I had driven with Josephine to and from squad plenty of times. Despite my growing feelings for her, the connection was always platonic, but now something had shifted and it felt more intimate.

"Where do you want to go camping? Mount Lucada?" I asked, thinking about what I might need to pack for us.

"No," she giggled. "I don't think there's even camping facilities there. Just picnic areas. I was thinking further afield, like the Vista Ranges perhaps? It's close enough for an overnighter."

I knew the place, but I hadn't been there in years. It was a high mountain range about ninety minutes' drive away. It was renowned for nature walks.

"So, are we on?" Josephine pressed me. "Can you get away for the weekend? What will you tell your wife?"

"She won't really care at all. I think she'll be happy to have the house to herself. I'm in!"

I've concluded that there are two types of regret in life. Regret for what you have done and regret for what you haven't had the courage to pursue. From experience I know which causes more heartache. That's why they've assigned a dedicated word for it . I determined that I'd make the most of my time with Josephine. I was reaching that stage of my life that I might not get an offer like this again.

We agreed that I'd collect her on Saturday morning and head up to Mount Vista to camp overnight. I would bring the camping equipment and she would organise the food. "Don't forget to bring your running shoes," she reminded me.

The prospect of an adventure with a new soul sent a thrill through my body, the likes of which I hadn't encountered since lifetimes ago.

Weekend Away

I arrived punctually at Josephine's apartment with my car full of old camping gear, but she was nowhere to be seen and didn't answer her phone when I called. My mind raced through negative possibilities: she'd had a change of mind, I had the arrangements all wrong, or even that the whole setup was a joke. But before I could follow through, she bundled herself out of the front door, laden with bags and coolers.

She greeted me with a smile that showed off her pearly white teeth and I packed her supplies in the trunk and together we set off.

Josephine wore a short casual cotton skirt and a fitted singlet. I'd never before actually seen her wear a skirt, as she exclusively wore sporting attire these days. I found the femininity offered extra allure. Even though her running tights showed off every curve of her body, there was something suggestive about the bare flesh just below the surface of skirt's loose fabric, and I found that it continually caught my eye, given a slight chance of exposing forbidden sights.

She had become familiar with my car's sound system and cued music from her phone through the speakers. We watched the urban streetscape thin out, then transition into country roads.

Trapped together in the car, she confronted me about my embarrassing accident. "What happened to you the other night with your health incident?"

"I don't know. I was pushing too hard I guess." That sounded like a pun, but it wasn't mean it to be. "I thought that I was ahead of you and then you came out of nowhere. You're a fast runner Josephine. Even faster than I expected."

"Did I frighten the shit out of you?" She wasn't afraid to land a pun.

"Very funny. No. Just a bit too much ego," I replied with introspection.

Her playlist shifted to one of her favorite songs and she cranked the volume. We bounced to the beat as the car chewed through the miles. I felt young and free again. The car chewed through the fuel too - the path was windy and the road was steep as we made our way to the top of Mount Vista.

After a few final steep segments of single-lane road, we arrived at the carpark, finding it completely deserted. It felt a bit spooky being the only car in a large expanse of parking bays, but we concluded that the threatening weather must have scared off other prospective campers.

At least it gave us the best carpark location, and it meant that it was not far to carry the tent and bags and all of our equipment to our site.

Josephine and I inspected the facilities. An asphalt car park funneled through a narrow entryway to a large grassy paddock on a gentle slope. Near the entrance was wooden platform which housed the only structure of the campground. A tin roof fed into a water tank with a faucet, and three doors led to toilet cubicles.

Heavy wooden tables were scattered around the area and circular formations of rocks created campfire beds. Several low trees were growing at random locations amongst the campsites. Around the edge of the campground were tall trees, leading directly into dark wooded forest.

The view from the camping ground was outstanding. From the highest vantage point, we could gaze out over forests and plains, with a couple of nearby peaks poking above the tree line. The colors of the trees were incredible with green interspersed with amber and brown as the leaves underwent their autumnal transformations.

We found a mostly-level location with a good flat area for the tent. There was a table nearby and a campfire within our vicinity. A tree was close, but not so close that branches could fall on our site. Together we raised the tent, following the instructions that I hadn't read for years.

I inflated the double mattress with the electric pump and laid out the sleeping bag for Jo and a simple sheet and heavy blanket for myself.

"Why don't you have a sleeping bag too?" asked Jo.

"I only own one. I replied. You can use it. I'll just use the blanket."

"No way, that's not fair," she pronounced and dived into the tent to make adjustments. When I looked in afterwards I saw that she'd unzipped the sleeping bag to use it as a blanket. I was pleased to see that she had reconfigured our bed in the form of a shared sleeping arrangement. It was something that I didn't even experience at home any more.

Jo disappeared back to the car and returned with her rucksack of 'camping extras'. She upended the bag to reveal a collection of brand new items. She was most excited to open a box containing a large plastic bladder, and she assembled the odds and ends that came with it.

"Ta da," she announced.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A camping shower. Look, you fill it with water here, and leave it out in the sun. It's black so it absorbs all the heat and then at night we've got a nice hot shower. I definitely need a shower at the end of every day."

"Looks good. But what if it's cloudy and rainy like they predict. It's not going to heat up."

"We'll work something out. If worst comes to worst, you'll just have to pee over me. That'll be warm enough."

Her comments which were sometimes flirtatious were starting to become kinkier. I liked it. Other remarks that she'd made in the lead up to this trip were definitely hints leading me towards the conclusion that there might be a chance of romance. The remark about peeing on me caught me off guard, and I didn't know how to react, so I just let silence fill the void.

Eventually, Josephine turned to a different topic. "Wood," she said. "We need firewood for the campfire." Together we traversed the boundary of the campground, scouring the edge of nature for sticks and small logs to make our fire. She selected the right pieces of timber and passed them to me, while I walked alongside, carrying the bundle. I was happy in my capacity as helper, sharing in Josephine's obvious excitement to be immersed in nature, with a simple mission to accomplish.

When I was fully loaded, we returned to the campsite and I dumped my quarry beside the rocks. Josephine instantly began configuring the fireplace, with a triangular stack of smaller sticks building into a larger frame.

When it was complete, she stood back and admired her work. "There, we're all ready to light it tonight."

"Now we just need the rain to stay away," I said looking to the clouds on the horizon.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," she replied. "I have a good feeling about this weekend."

The Trail Run

"Let's start off the weekend with a run!" Josephine exclaimed enthusiastically. "The tent's all set up, the campfire won't take long to light. The shower water is warming up. The sun's out. The views are fantastic. Don't you think it's perfect for a run?"

"Sure," I replied. "Where did you want to run to?" It had been a steep drive to the top of the mountain, and I was a bit apprehensive about hill sprints on that road."

"Just get changed into your running gear," she ordered. "I've got a plan."

Josephine dived into the tent and popped out a moment later wearing a matching apricot set of spandex running shorts and a crop top. I used the tent afterwards and dressed in a light running singlet and loose fitting shorts.

When I came out of the tent, Jo was perched on a camp chair, putting on a pair of well-worn trail running shoes.

"Hey!" I exclaimed with some surprise. "Those are proper trail running shoes!" I had only brought hiking boots and my road running shoes.

"Exactly!" she replied with an excited wide smile.

"Have you been dipping your toe into running trails?"

"Actually, I've been doing it quite a lot."

"Really?" I asked surprised. "I thought you were just a road runner like me. Where have you been going?"

"Up in Lucada Forest Park." That was the nature reserve that backed onto the city.

"There are some big hills in that forest," I said, but of course I was telling her nothing new.

"I know!" she said, confident that she had something over me now.

"Well it's no wonder you've been getting so strong with your running. Look at those legs!"

She flexed her quads and I saw the distinct muscles pop out. Amazing!

"And I've been doing it with weights too."

"What?"

"Just a light weight vest. And not every time. But it helps."

I was shocked. Secret training. And weights training too. It was like she'd found some cheat codes. She was going to run the trails like a turbo jet.

I tied up my Hokas and hoped like hell that they would be stable enough for running the trails that Jo had in mind. We walked through the camp ground and out the other side to a public clearing where the various trails commenced. A large sign portrayed a map with various colored routes of shorter and longer, easier and harder paths.

"This one!" she said, pointing to the green dotted line. "The Frogs Pond trail. I want to do this one."

"Four miles," I read off. "Each way. Easy."

"Remember it's not on the flat road," she warned.

We jogged slowly across the grassy reserve to a post in the ground adorned with an engraved sign "Frogs Pond 4 mi".

Then Jo took off like a bullet out of a gun! The track took twists and turns. There were big trees on each side of the trail with branches that crossed the path at head height, making me duck and weave to remain safe.

The trail followed a gradual descent, but there were myriad undulations. The ground itself was hazardous, presenting all sorts of terrain. Big rocks, slippery pebbles, slimy leaf matter, exposed tree roots and land slips. It required constant focus to ensure that I didn't slip over.

Jo didn't seem to have any hesitancy at all. She just skipped across all of the obstacles like she was dancing on air. Her feet patted the ground as light as a feather and she just flew down the trail. She would disappear beyond my vision, then I'd find her waiting for me at a blind turn, and she'd run with me for a while before disappearing ahead again.

It took over an hour to arrive at the end of the trail. My watch beeped - exactly four miles, but it took double the time I would have guessed initially.

The track spilled into a clearing with a beautiful waterhole as the centerpiece. We were presented with creek which tumbled over a low waterfall into a large circular rock pool. In turn, the pool spilled into a stream that meandered away through ferns and trees.

A colorful skink was baking on the dark basalt rocks surrounding the water and scurried away when we arrived.

"Did you see that?" Josephine asked excitedly.

"Yeah!"

"I love nature!" she cooed. "I wonder if there are any frogs in the pond." We looked together, but no other wildlife was evident.

"Looks like it's safe," I suggested.

"Swim?" asked Josephine. "I've always wanted to come here to this spot."

I could see the rocky bottom in the clear water. The pond was certainly big enough to swim in and deep too.

Jo removed her shoes, peeled off her socks and then stepped off the rocky edge straight into the pond. She disappeared under the water, and bust back through the surface, shaking the water from her hair and squealing.

"It's so cold!" she cried. "Come on. It's my birthday treat. You need to get in!"

I followed suit, taking off my shoes and singlet and taking the plunge. The water was chilly, likely making its way from the cold mountain top. I couldn't imagine how it would feel in the middle of winter.

We only lasted a few minutes and then hauled ourselves out of the water. We were both shivering, but lacked towels or clothes to warm us up. Jo might have planned this destination, but perhaps she hadn't thought that far ahead. Her teeth were chattering and I could see her hardened nipples pressing outward on her wet crop top.

"The rocks," I said.

We lay down side by side, bathing in radiant sunlight on the warm basalt rocks. In the lee of the breeze, our bodies warmed and began to dry. The sun was bright in my face and I closed my eyes to bathe in the experience of nature.

My body temperature had stabilized, I was relaxed and my heart rate had slowed when I felt shade across my face. I opened my eyes to find the silhouette of Josephine's face hovering over me, sunlight spilling around the edges like an eclipse.

"Thanks for coming on my special birthday trip," she said in a sultry way.

"It's my pleasure. Truly."

"You're very cute, you know," she said coyly.

"For an old guy," I conceded.

"Forany kind of guy."

Time paused. Our eyes locked. I was frozen. Her face floated downward and my eyes closed.

Her lips had always presented me with a visual delight, but the tactile sensation lifted my arousal to an entirely new level. As we kissed for the first time, her plush lips felt like tender clouds raining emotions down upon me.

She kissed by pressing her parted mouth gently against mine until I felt her flesh melt over my own lips. A delightful moist layer made the contact even more inviting. She would tighten her lips gently, almost nibbling on my lip, before her mouth closed almost shut. She suctioned upon my skin and pulled away, drawing me toward her, before breaking contact by the smallest distance. Then she would repeat her kiss, at a slightly different place on my mouth, sometimes focusing on the top lip, sometimes to the side, sometimes below.

As her kissing continued, the action became more pronounced, and she would press more firmly. I detected more moistness from our contact, and eventually she applied the tip of her tongue, extending within the kiss to gently touch my lips. Her nibbling intensified, progressing almost to a biting action. And her suction became stronger, eventually pulling my lower lip inside her mouth as she drew her face backward.

The span of her kiss expanded, and she moved to kissing my cheek, my ear and down to my chin.

It was by far the most intense and involved kissing that I'd ever experienced in my life. In my youth I'd kissed plenty of girls, but they were either inhibited kisses from girls afraid of the connection, or else rough snogging kisses with no finesse at all.

This kissing was altogether different. It was sensual and sexy. The cold of the water was a distant memory and I was occupied by the warmth of her touch.

The kissing left me enormously aroused, so I started to remove my pants as you do in situations like this. In my mind that's just what comes next naturally.

"Not yet," she whispered, and placed a finger on my lips. "This is the warm up. I want to let it build so we can make the most of our time together later." Jo pressed herself up with her arms and looked down at me. She tilted forward one more time to smack a quick kiss on my lips and then she stood and started searching for her shoes.

"Time to head back to camp," Jo announced.

I propped myself on an elbow. What the fuck had just happened? My cock knew what was happening as it had hardened like the rock beneath me. I found my shoes and singlet and before I knew it were back on the trail.

The run home was mainly uphill, but somehow it seemed easier than the trip down to the Frog Pond. Of course, my mind was occupied with our kiss and hints of more amorous pursuits to come. The return trail still offered plenty to concentrate on, with washouts, tree roots and uneven gravel to negotiate.

From our experience back around the swimming hole, I also had an additional weight in my pants to contend with. My cock remained engorged for whole run back, though not a proper erectionper se. I could feel it bouncing in my pants with every step, probably the way women feel their breasts swaying when they run. Alas, there was no such thing as a sports bra for my dick, and the flimsy inner lining of my running shorts provided little help.

Regardless of how I might have perceived time passing, Garmin said that we took five minutes longer on the return journey than outbound trip. We ran all the way to the trail entrance, and then Jo and I walked together back to the tent, both of us sweaty and spent from the effort. The final walk was uphill, so our breath took some time to return to normal, and we remained silent until we reached the campsite.

Camping Life

It was early afternoon when we found ourselves back at the tent, and the sun was high in the sky peeking through random patches of cloud. Josephinealways seemed to indulge in a single cigarette at the end of every run session and today was no exception. I'd confronted her about it before, but I'm sure by now it was an ingrained habit. Besides, the benefits of so much running far probably outweighed the negative health impacts of an occasional puff.

She sat perched on the edge of the wooden bench, unfolded her tobacco pouch and lay the cigarette papers on her lap. Carefully she extracted the chopped matter, laid it along the white square and rolled it deftly. She brought it to her mouth, once more accentuating those gorgeous lips, and licked the paper to moisten the gum.

She held her zippo lighter to the tip and the flames ignited the paper. She extinguished a tiny naked flame with a breath from her pursed lips. "Want a drag?" she asked. She drew deeply and held the smoke in her lungs.

"No, I don't smoke," I replied.

After holding her breath for an impressively long time, she let the smoke release in a big cloud, and issued a subdued, rough cough.

"You sure you don't want some? It's not the usual."

"What do you mean?" I asked, the truth taking time to dawn.

"You might like this type of cigarette." She smiled with mischief.

"Is that dope?" I asked.

"Exactly," she replied, holding the spliff towards me. "Want to share it with me? It's a special occasion. It's my birthday remember? Please share. I don't want to smoke alone." Her bottom lip extended in a faux sad expression.

I consumed a single puff and returned the half-used joint to her. I felt a little woozy straight away. I hadn't taken a toke since college days.

Josephine reclined back on the wooden bench, leaning against the table and inhaled another breath of the joint. I had one more puff, and afterwards she expertly sucked the final remnants of smoke from the roach. She threw the tiny remnant of paper into the fireplace and then stepped close to the pyre with her lighter in hand.

Jo squeezed her hand through a tiny gap in the stack to reach a little cache abundant with tiny sticks and twigs. She struck the lighter and let the flames lick the timbers for so long that I was worried her hand would burn. When she extracted her arm, smoke began to billow from the pile and soon after, the timber flamed into a roaring inferno.

"Time to hit the showers," she said, and for some reason we both began to laugh. I found it an uplifting kind of giggling release, but I soon discovered she was serious.

Josephine walked over to tent and collected her towel. Then she crossed our campsite to collect the bladder which had been lying on the ground in the sun all day. She felt the surface, reacting in a way to convey that it was hot. She walked over to the nearest tree, dropped her towel by the base and then lifted the bladder, throwing the hook over an overhanging branch and hoisting the contraption higher.

"It's ready," she announced, turning to me with a smile. Then she simply disrobed from all of her running gear until she was completely naked with her back turned to me. She pulled downward on a hanging rope and water poured over her hair and body, forming beads that dripped down her back and spilled off her buttocks.

It was an unexpected sight, but incredibly alluring to watch. She maintained her orientation, so I was never bless with full frontal nudity, but I managed to drink in her perfect body and stare at that cute ass. While I didn't get to see everything, I did catch a glimpse of some hidden flesh as she bent over to wash down her legs.

When the shower was complete, she released the rope and the water stopped instantly. She wrapped the towel around her torso, and headed back to our tent, diving into the privacy of the fabric walls to change. When she emerged, she was wearing nothing but a white string bikini. It wasn't a particularly revealing bikini, but it did show plenty of skin. I loved it. The entire experience was like a surreal show, and my head was still spinning with the effects of the marijuana. I was slow to react when she addressed me.

"Time foryour shower now Ev. I won't watch if you don't want me to. I've got to prepare the food anyway."

I wondered if I too should just shower naked. She had seen me at my most vulnerable already, with my own steaming excrement running down my leg. What more was there to hide?

I stripped down, washed off in the lukewarm water and changed into some casual clothes. She prepared sandwiches while I showered, and abiding by her promise, she didn't even turn my way at all.

We ate her sandwiches and after lunch relaxed around the campsite. Time was marching on and we were well into the afternoon already. She slumped into a chair with a book, bathing herself in whatever sunlight came our way. I started reading a magazine that I'd brought along. It was nice to be away from the influence of phones and other distractions.

"What are you reading?" I asked. Josephine was engrossed in a fat novel with a thick spine that she splayed open to get access to the text printed in the middle.

"Huh," she asked, pulling her nose from the book, and taking some time to process what I'd asked.

"Oh. Thriller," she replied. The plot had obviously captured her attention.

"Is it the Michael Jackson memoirs?" I quipped, pretty sure that she should get the pop culture reference.

Huh?"

"Oh, no." Her lips curled a little. "It's a murder mystery about a younger cop with no experience who is partnered with an older cop to solve a murder. Except the old cop doesn't know that the young cop is actually the perpetrator."

"It sounds like the twist is already given away."

"Maybe. Sometimes the journey is the important thing, even when you know how things end. Anyway, I'm sure that there will be some unexpected events on the way."

"It looks like it's going to take you a while to get there. That is one big book!"

"I kind of like all the anticipation. I like a big build up to a satisfying conclusion," she said cryptically.

I gulped. My thin running magazine wasn't very impressive in comparison.

We lounged in the chairs for the afternoon. Clouds flitted across the sky and delivered occasional periods of direct sunlight. The fire roared and was always there to keep us warm whenever we were enveloped in shade. Fortunately, the rain had still not materialized to dampen our trip. Eventually, the sun dipped low in the west, and it signaled that time was right to prepare for night time.

Jo rugged up with a cardigan over the top of her bikini and I pulled on a hoodie. Although we had the light of the campfire, I set up a battery-powered camp light in the tent so that we could see better. We pulled the collapsible camping chairs closer to the fireplace so that we could sit facing the warmth and watch the flames licking.

There were acres of space in the camp ground, and we were the only ones to enjoy the serenity. All the same, Josephine pulled her camp chair right up beside mine. There was no real need to sit so close to me, but still I enjoyed it. I felt connected to her.

Josephine stood up to collect one of the larger pieces of timber that we'd set aside earlier and threw it into the center of the fire. It created a swirl of tiny sparks that floated up into the sky.

"Fireworks!" I said as she returned to her camping chair.

"To celebrate my birthday," she finished.

After a pause, I decided to ask where I fitted into the equation.

"Josephine, can I ask? Why did you choose me to come camping with you?"

"Well Ev, before I do, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I don't like being called Josephine."

"What do you mean? What do you want to be called?"

"Jo. Just Jo."

"I see. Sure. Why's that?"

"I don't likeJosephine. I mean, no-one callsyou by your full name, so you know what I'm talking about. Josephine sounds pretentious, and you know I'm not a pretentious kind of girl." Her explanation was sincere and I wondered how she had felt that I'd been calling her Josephine all this time.

"I know. You're very down to earth."

"Down and dirty," she snickered. The seriousness of our exchange eased.

"Exactly Jo," I agreed. "But you haven't answered. Why me?"

"Because you inspire me Ev." She turned my way with one side of her face bathed in the orange hue of the fire, and her eyes sparkled with reflections of the flames.

"When I started run squad I was kind of lost. Way back when I came to this country, I fell into bad company, and you helped to pull me out." She gazed into the flames as she spoke.

"I never knew. What bad company?"

"It doesn't matter. A group of people who I thought were friends but they turned out to be exactly the opposite. I lost all my money. There was abuse. I fell into drugs. And worse." She turned to me with a tear in her eye and extended a hand.

I returned the gesture and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. I wondered what the bad circumstances had entailed, but I didn't feel pity for her, just an overwhelming desire to provide support and protection.

"So you saved me from all that. Well the running squad did. It was just what I needed - discipline, routine, a healthy habit. And you. You were there to motivate me to come to all the sessions. Without you I would have just dropped out, I'm sure. And who knows where I would have ended up. Probably back there."

"I had no idea," I replied. After all the time we'd spent talking over the last year, none of this history had ever come up.

"So I got out of that trap. With your help. And I wanted to say thanks. And also -. Also I really like being with you. You've been a gift to me. You're kind and caring and a friend. Actually, way more than a friend." She smiled suggestively at me and squeezed my hand in return.

When she mentioned gift, it prompted me that I'd decided to buy her a bottle of fine wine as a 40th birthday present. I don't know much about wine. I gave up booze on a short health program twenty years ago and I never resumed drinking afterwards. I had visited a proper wine cellar for advice, not simply my local bottle shop and they helped me to find something nice. It was expensive, but forty is a significant milestone and deserving of something special. When I presented the gift to Jo she bubbled with excitement.

"Oh goodie!" she exclaimed, "I love wine. What did you get me? Red or white?"

I held my breath. "Red."

"Fantastic! My favorite. I can't understand people who drink white." She opened the boxed package and looked intently at the label on the bottle, trying to read in the subdued light of the fire.

"Hey this is really fancy stuff! Thankyou." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

I thought you might want to keep it for later. For a special occasion or something."

"Nonsense," she replied. "This is the special occasion. We'll have it with dinner." With that, she hopped up and put together a camp meal of stew that she'd prepared earlier, and we shared the food. I thought that the wine complemented her cooking perfectly, but that was just my opinion.

A substantial run on new terrain, a bit of haze from a puff of weed, and a few glasses of alcohol were all unfamiliar to my body. Along with the intoxication that came from being around Jo and the emotional rush from sharing inner thoughts, I was feeling frisky. Something was destined to happen.

After the meal was done, we finished the remainder of the bottle without any trouble.

The rain had held off all day, despite the forecast, but now the heavens informed us it their time to release. The air became instantly cooler and we both detected tiny specks of water on the bare skin on our legs. Over the next few minutes droplets became heavier and it was obvious that more rain was coming.

The night was still early, but Jo suggested that it was time for bed.

I quickly did a makeshift job to tidy our dinner mess and shifted our used running clothes under the fly of our tent. With the rain, the scent of the air had changed and the fragrance of the forest met my nose.

Jo disappeared into the tent and I could spy the dim light diffusing through the green tent fly.

When I'd finished cleanup, I toweled off and entered the tent through the zippered flaps. The white noise of raindrops filled my ears, but the sight of Jo captured my attention. She was lying on her side, resplendent in a short nightie that sat on high her hip and revealed her legs and thighs in full. I could tell there was no bra as her nipples showed through the fabric. She was so fucking sexy.

She smiled, and spoke above the din. "Bedtime."

I lifted my shirt off, starting to change into pajamas. I thought that might be a good starting point for the night.

"Let me help you", she offered and took the shirt from my hand, throwing it into the corner of the tent where our bags were stored. She crawled to me on all fours and then settled on her knees, sitting back on her heels. She grasped my shorts by the waistband and pulled them to the floor. My cock had engorged and was obvious in my underpants.

"Can I?" she asked, looking up at me with big, begging eyes. I nodded, almost unable to speak.

She slipped my cock from my boxers and held it from below with an open palm. She pressed her cheek against my member, letting me feel the soft silky skin of her face against my rod. She ran her lips over me, sliding her parted mouth back and forth along the shaft, staying well away from my sensitive glans. Her hand closed around me and she began a slow delicate rhythm of strokes.

Her mouth pressed against the side of my shaft, suctioning on, and she began to fondle my balls with her slender fingers. My cock grew to full mast, as hard as I can manage. She was teasing me no end. I was excited and my breath shifted to little sips in anticipation of her actually taking me into her mouth.

Jo released me and sat back, looking up at me with an inviting smile. She lay down on our bed, her hair spilling over the pillow and her body calling me in. She shifted her body down the bed slightly, but the friction of her nightie on the blankets resulted in the garment riding upward on her body, exposing the flesh of her vulva.

She placed the tip of her forefinger between her teeth, like she was uncertain if I'd follow her lead, but in reality, there was nothing that could stop me. I pulled the hem of her nightie upwards, and she arched her body to free the cloth until I removed it over her head and from her arms completely.

Her body was stunning. A toned runner's form with obvious muscular bundles visible below her flawless skin. Her breasts were perfectly shaped with small areola and pink erect nipples. I let my hands glide across her exquisite body, touching her shoulders, her neck, her chest, her tummy and finally her smooth mound.

I'd always been entranced by her lips and her smile offered me more mystique than the Mona Lisa. When I inspected her body I was presented with pussy lips that were even more alluring. She possessed a completely smooth, fleshy outer labia that packaged everything up neatly. Her outer lips enclosed the entirety of her genitals, save a cute clitoral bulb that poked from the top of her slit, even with her legs together, much like a tongue poking from the corner of a mouth. When she parted her legs for me, it revealed pink inner lips with a glistening streak along her entrance.

Instinct drew my face to her and I kissed her mound, my lips slowly working downward towards her pussy. I felt her hands land on the back of my head and she opened her legs wider. She guided my face and I took a long slow gentle lick along the length of her wet slit. Her juices were viscous, runny like water, and tasted of salt.

I let my tongue caress along her crease, visiting the narrow opening at its base, and rising to just make contact with her engorged glans. Each stroke of my tongue elicited a soft moan and her hands encouraged my actions. I discerned more moisture spilling from her pussy and I was happy to lap it up, the taste making me even more horny. My tongue extended and I pressed it into her opening as far as I was able, before withdrawing and returning to stroking up and down the length of her lips.

I pulled my face away to enjoy the sight of her body, unfolded and on display for me. Her fleshy inner pussy lips had become swollen and extended outside of her fold. I took one then the other into my mouth, feeling the sensitive soft skin against my tongue.

Her clit had continued to swell with my attention. I used my tongue to circle the button, and pulled it into my mouth. My tongue curled under the little hood, teasing out the tip of her clit and I felt her body shudder as I made direct contact with the sensitive nub.

I eased away, not wanting to overwhelm her with direct contact on her most tender zones. We had all the time in the world, so I wanted to tease and prolong the pleasure. I used my lips to kiss around her puffy outer pussy lips, her upper thigh, and her perineum.

Her hand reached down to her mound and she stretched the skin upwards, which made her cunt contract a little, but forced her clit to stand proud and extend outwards.

I took it into my mouth and squirted it in and out through my pursed lips several times. She moaned and I felt her crunching her hips up to press herself harder into my face, like she was fucking my lips.

"Fuck me," she demanded. "Fuck me now Ev."

My mind melted at her invitation. I was craving to enter her but I wanted more than a simple fuck. Being inside of her would satisfy my primordial urge, but I wanted more. I wanted the full connection between us. I yearned for our bodies to merge, to feel skin enveloping skin, to experience our mouths connecting in a passionate kiss. I desired a lovers' embrace and wanted our souls to join.

Jo threw her hands up, landing on the pillow on each side of her head signifying surrender. She parted her legs even wider and lifted her knees, opening herself to me, presenting me with her sex and inviting me in.

I hovered over her body and gripped her hands in mine, our fingers entwined and my face suspended above hers, our eyes meeting in the dim light. We kissed, our lips engaging softly then growing in energy. The texture off her mouth on mine was delectable.

My body rested above her with my cock directly in line with her wet pussy. I let the head of my cock poise at her entrance for just a moment and she jerked her body trying to thrust her sex towards mine. Clearly she felt as horny as me, desperate for our union. I knew just how she felt. My body was dying to connect with her.

I slid inside without any real resistance. Her pussy was welcoming, wet and swollen, but I found her a tight fit. It was almost like her narrow hips kept everything held firmly within herself and there was just less space for me to be inside. All the running had invariably strengthened all parts of her body, and her pelvic muscles activated in a way that yielded pleasure to my manhood.

Her hands loosened free from our grip and found their way around my chest and roamed my back. I plunged my rod deeper and she moaned into my mouth. I pulled out of the kiss and buried my head into the pillow beside hers. Joyous emotions spilled from her mind directly to mine through our touching temples.

My whole being resonated with the pleasure from our two bodies merging. My cock slid effortlessly in and out of Jo's pussy, and I could feel her fluids coating my penis and soaking into my pubes. My balls hung loosely below, and pressed hard against her when my thrust reached full depth.

My tempo rose, and I allowed my cock to travel the full length. I received the tingle of my glans as it entered her taut entrance, and then the comforting slide as my shaft travelled deep within her.

Her hands roamed across my back, rubbing gently, then harder, and eventually I felt her nails digging into my skin. Her legs wrapped around my thighs to pull me in and her hands began to grip my ass, steering me to press harder and faster into her pussy. She exhaled forcefully on each thrust and I smelled the familiar scent of her breath mixed with a tiny hint of smoke.

Eventually, I felt a familiar twinge in my balls, and my pelvic floor began to involuntarily tighten. It was the sign that my sexual build was reaching an imminent climax. My hips continued thrusting as I advanced closer to release.

With dread I realized that I hadn't prepared anything for the aftermath of our union. My wife always forces me to pull out at the last minute to ejaculate into a tissue. She hates contact with sperm and gets annoyed if any gets onto her skin. She told me that it feels off-putting and smells bad. To be honest, I think she hates the whole act of love.

But Jo detected my imminent orgasm and gripped my ass cheeks and pulled me in. She closed her ankles behind my back and squeezed me tight. She placed her hands on each side of my face, forcing me to look into her eyes.

"Cum in me Ev. Cum in my pussy. I want you to fill me. I want you to be part of me."

She watched intently into my soul as I came, keeping her eyes locked on mine while I gushed cum inside of her and my cock twitched like crazy with the orgasm.

I don't think she came herself but to be honest in those final few moments of bliss, anything could have happened. My mind surged in fireworks and the outside world vanished as I was overcome by waves of orgasmic spasms and washed with ecstatic emotions.

Afterwards I offered to find something to clean up.

"No," she replied. "Pass me my nightie." She screwed it into a ball and clenched it between her legs. "I want to keep you in me as long as I can. And whatever comes out, I'll just wear it to bed. That way you'll be extra close to me all night."

The sound of rain reappeared on the roof of the tent. Perhaps it had been raining the whole time, but I had been so focused that I didn't really notice. I lay back naked on the mattress, then pulled a blanked up over the two of us.

She snuggled into my chest with her leg draped over mine and her naked breast pressed into my rib and I could feel the slow, regular pulse of her heartbeat through the wall of her chest. Her head rested on my shoulder and I could feel her breath send tiny waves across the wisps of hair on my chest. Her nightie remained stuffed between her legs, with a damp patch that rubbed on my skin from time to time.

I could tell that Jo had drifted off to sleep soon enough when her breathing softened. Momentarily, in her sleep, she began a light purring noise in her throat. In the darkness, I lay content, feeling the closeness of our connection. With time, and calmed by the sound of the rain, I fell into a deep, satisfying sleep too.

The Hike

I woke late the next day bathed in soft luminescent green light as daylight filtered through the tent walls. I looked around but Jo was not beside me on the mattress. I sat up and listened intently. Amongst the chorus of birds, I heard the sounds of Jo's presence amongst the utensils and cutlery of our campsite.

The clanking stopped and soon after the tent flap split open with her grinning face appearing. The sight of her lips continued to buoy my heart, especially when she smiled.

"Wake up sleepy-head! You're missing the best part of the day. You've already missed the morning run."

"What? You went without me?"

"You were fast asleep," she laughed. "I think I wore you out yesterday! Come on, get up. Breakfast is ready. We've got a big hike to get through today."

I dressed and clambered out of the tent and into our camp kitchen area. The ashes of the campfire had cooled and she had used the little gas stove to cook us a hearty bowl of oats. She liberally squeezed honey over each of our meals.

Jo's used running clothes from her morning run were draped over the back of a camp chair drying. I shifted them aside and sat down to eat. The breakfast was delicious and Jo remained standing while she hungrily consumed her own bowl.

Jo often wore high-waisted tight running shorts, but that day she was dressed in loose-fitting pink toweling shorts that slung low on her hips. She had rolled the fabric down at the waist to encourage the pants to sit even lower. I found the look incredibly sexy - the fabric accentuated her lithe body with her hip bones protruding above the waistband. Even more evocative, the front hung low, and I could see a hint of the top of her mound, just peeking above the shorts. The white bikini top from yesterday complemented her outfit and in a symbol of juxtaposition, she wore heavy hiking boots.

I found it pleasing to watch her while I ate and she didn't seem to mind my staring.

"We're going on a long hike today," she announced. "By my calculation it's about a five hour hike."

"Where are we going?" I asked, not really knowing all the geography.

"It's the Pig Track. It'll take us down to the valley then up to the next peak at Mount Ember. So get your skates on!"

We finished breakfast, tidied up and I dressed in clothes for the hike. Jo and I coordinated what we'd take in the single day pack that we'd share.

"Snacks, first aid, a towel. Anything else we need?" she asked.

"Water," I replied.

"Yes, I've got two liters of water. Makes it a heavy pack," she announced lifting the bag to demonstrate its weight.

"It's lucky that you've done that weight training in your running," I quipped. "But honestly, I don't mind carrying the bag today."

"It's OK. We can share. That weight training is really going to pay off," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulders. She pushed her stomach forward, creating a bulging tummy. "Now that you've given me this baby, I'll have to carry around this pregnant tummy for the next nine months!" She rubbed her skin with both hands and laughed teasingly.

I knew she was joking and I laughed along, but honestly the thought was exciting. A baby would thrust us together and I would relish the prospect of being with Jo.

The hike was long but not too arduous. We travelled through all manner of terrain: sand, mud, forest and grassland. As she predicted, the path led us downward for extended periods and then an unrelenting upward climb. At the top of Mount Ember, we stopped for a snack and admired the sweeping views and the contrasting colors of evergreens and deciduous trees.

For the return journey, it was my turn to carry the bag. I walked behind Jo for the entire hike. Somehow, she had taken command of the weekend and I was simply following her lead. I didn't mind. I got to watch that cute ass wiggling and gazed over her strong, smooth legs. With only a bikini top my eyes were able to feast on the flesh of her back. The floral designs of the tattoos on her shoulder became burned into my mind.

In the lowest point of the valley, the ecology transitioned into a rainforest. The air felt moist and the vegetation was dominated by dense palm trees and low ferns. The humidity caused my skin to perspire and I noticed droplets settling on Jo's skin too.

"I'm always behind you on this walk," I said. "I was behind you for the whole trail run yesterday too!"

"I like you there behind me," she replied.

"What are you saying? You like it from behind?" Jo didn't always have the monopoly on innuendo.

"I'm saying you can do me from behind anytime," she declared, glancing over her shoulder to catch my eye.

The string ties of her bikini top had been taunting me all day long. Two loosely knotted ribbons of piping were all that held the garment together. The knot in the center of her back was a floppy bow with two long tails and it was a miracle that all the bouncing motions of our walk had not shaken the knot undone already.

I took a long step to close the space while we walked, reached forward and pulled on one of the threads. The bow slipped undone, the strings fell downwards and the cloth of her bikini fell loose, exposing a flash of side-boob.

"I see," said Jo, untying the additional knot behind her neck while she continued marching along the narrow trail. She removed the entire garment, held her hand to the side to demonstrate unequivocally that she had removed it, and then slung it around the back of her neck, as you might a sweater when the weather is too hot. It was all done deliberately, without hesitation, and without turning around to offer me the sight of her topless.

She stepped off the trail and stood facing a large palm tree trunk, moist with water gently dripping down its bark. She reached upwards and placed her hands against the trunk, high above her head. Then she shuffled her feet backwards and stood with her legs parted. She arched her back and pressed her ass backwards.

"You can take me from behind right now if you like." She looked over her shoulder again at me.

It was incredibly fucking hot to watch. Those skimpy shorts, naked breasts and an invitation like no other. My dick responded like a teenager, instantly hard and raging. I dumped the rucksack from my back and walked up to Jo's behind, grabbing the folds of her rolled waistband in my fists. I pulled her bottom back into the hard on straining in my shorts. She sighed.

My hands untangled from the fabric and my palms glided up the front of her silky body, moist with sweat and humidity. I felt the ridges of her abs, her ribs and then I clutched her breasts, rolling the nipples between my fingers. She pressed her ass harder against my cock, bouncing it a few times.

My hands returned to her shorts and slid them down over the bulge of Jo's buttocks and I left them stranded around her thighs. Her parted legs prevented them from falling further. She wore no panties.

My palm rubbed her ass cheek and slipped between her legs. Everything was moist with the damp air and sweat from our walk, but her pussy was especially wet. I felt the juices ooze from her slit as my middle finger entered the crease of her vulva. She moaned and pressed her ass back a little harder.

"OK, here it comes," I said.

"Good," she replied.

I let my shorts drop to my feet, the fabric settling on my hiking boots. My cock sprung out, bouncing a few times and settled. I clutched my shaft and guided the head to her entrance. Her hands slid down the tree a little more and her torso tilted, exposing her pussy more to me and creating the perfect angle for me to enter. I pressed forward and felt the ecstasy of the first entry, as my cock forged a path inside of her.

I grabbed her by the hips, my fingers curled around her hip bones and grasped tight, my forefinger resting on top of the bone and the rest of my hand digging into her muscular flesh.

I began to drive my cock into her, aggressively with animalistic instinct, the opposite of the gentle lovemaking from the previous night. The pace rose as I shoved her petite body back and forth in ever stronger thrusts. I built to a frantic frenzy, her head shaking and her hair a mess. The forest echoed with the sounds of her moans and the wet slapping as our bodies contacted upon each thrust.

"Fuck me Ev. Fuck me harder." I banged hard, my cock driving home to the hilt on every thrust. We had been fucking for only a minute or so, but I couldn't hold my climax back, and my balls exploded, injecting oceans of cum from my twitching rod. I pulled myself hard into her, letting my orgasm tail off deep inside.

"Mmmm," she cooed. "That was fun. Fast and furious. You still got it, old man."

I recovered my breath, stepped back and let my cock slip from her pussy. A trail of cum fell to the forest floor. "Sure was good," I replied, pulling up my pants.

Jo turned around and pulled her shorts back up. She squirmed and I saw her hand press the crotch of her pants up against her vulva.

"I can feel your cum still inside of me," she announced. "I like it. Nice and slippery. At least I won't chaff now." She reached up on tip toes and kissed me on the cheek. "Come on, we've got a hike to finish. She turned tail and continued walking like nothing had happened. I followed behind, deliriously happy with dopamine flooding my brain.

Homeward Bound

We showered after the hike, exhausting the limited warm water from the bladder. Jo rolled a regular smoke and then puffed on it slowly while we worked together to disassemble our site and pack away the gear. The drive home involved long winding downhill segments, with some occasional downpours, but was otherwise uneventful. When we reached the level ground and straight highways, Jo nodded off and remained asleep for much of the way home, leaving me to bathe in memories of the weekend. She woke just as we were entering her street.

"How does it feel to be forty?" I asked as we pulled up.

"My actual birthday is not until Tuesday. But, it feels great. I'm all grown up. I've joined the adult club!" She laughed and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks for the weekend. This has been just what I wanted." I helped to shift her bags into her foyer and then she bid me goodbye with a hug.

Jo and I managed to find the opportunity to fuck a few more times over the next couple of weeks.

On three instances after I drove her home from training, she invited me back into her apartment. She led me up the lift and coaxed me into her bedroom to make love. Every time that I reached climax, she begged me to fill her with my cum and I obliged. We cuddled afterwards, our breath synchronized and our naked bodies spooning. The loving acts cemented my connection with her and it was always physically satisfying, but I was inevitably sorry to leave.

The fourth and final occasion happened when we arrived early for squad. Jo asked if I'd accompany her to the loo, but she actually guided me behind a concrete public toilet block for a quickie. I fucked her from behind the same way I did against that palm tree on the way home from Mount Ember, bent forward with her palms pressed hard against the wall. We didn't even participate in squad that night. We were panting hard after the sex and it seemed that we'd exercised plenty. We simply took a long stroll back to the car and I drove her home.

It feels like my time with Jo was a lifetime ago now. It's been almost ten years since that fateful camping trip. We were so close and we shared those handful of intimate liaisons, but soon after her 40th birthday, she had to return home for family matters. She packed up, left the country and slipped away.

I kept in contact for a while, but without the daily connection and rituals of our running, our communications petered away. She joined a running club in her home town, and I know that she still runs, even today. I look at the event logs every now and then to see how her times and distances are standing up. She's still an impressive runner.

I often think about our time together and the birthday camping trip and those few magical times that we hooked up. They were amongst the happiest occasions of my life, and I've had nothing to compare since she moved back to Asia. The routine of run squad remains the metronome of my life, ticking away through the years.

Every time I see an attractive Asian woman, at the airport, supermarket, or anywhere, I try to position myself to see their face. As beautiful as each individual might be, their eyes never have the same sparkle that Jo exuded, and their mouths might be pretty, but none compare to Jo's perfect lips.

This year she'll be turning fifty. Unbelievable. What's more unbelievable is how my life has run its course and now I'm transitioning into old age. Using Jo's yardstick, my dick still gets hard so perhaps I'm not completely over the hill, but my body is definitely feeling tired these days and the signs of age are showing.

I wonder if she ever thinks about me. I don't even know what has transpired in her personal life over the last decade. She's maintained her privacy and I haven't wanted to pry, but with the coming of her next milestone birthday, I wonder if she will make contact. Maybe she'll arrive back in town. Maybe she will message me out of the blue. Better still, maybe she'll phone with an invitation to go camping together.