Dream Canyon

Dream Canyon

Author's note: All characters 18 or older. This is a fantasy about what might happen were a husband and wife to explore an outdoors spot known for public nudity and same-sex cruising together. As a result, there are a few scenes that feature gay sex and bi-curiosity. Kindly find another story if these activities aren't your thing.

The story was inspired by a Reddit post featuring a college-aged couple posing nude for a photo shoot in this location together. I'd already been interested in visiting the canyon for some time, and that photo helped me to both imagine what that would be like more clearly--and to wonder what would happen if my significant other and I were to cross paths with these quite-attractive individuals....

* * * * *

We have a lightly scheduled day and two full-day summer camps teed up for the kids. We drop the kids off and head to a coffee shop to catch up on email and try to get a few to-dos squared away.

Since we'd stayed up late binge watching a few sexy shows on Netflix the night before, we're both a little tired and a bit residually turned on and a lot unenthusiastic about really throwing ourselves into work. So after 45 minutes of noodling, we both decide to make the most of the lovely weather and spend a little time up in the mountains. I argue that since we always head up north, today we should try going west instead and maybe get some pizza in the neighboring mountain town before re-grouping for the afternoon. I also intimate that I know of a nice hike that we might be able to check out on the way up--doing a terrible job of disguising the fact that I might potentially (very probably) have another tacit agenda.

We head up the canyon, me tinkering with my phone as we leave the city to make sure that I have the directions to our real destination properly cached up before we lose cell phone service. When I make the hard turn off the main highway onto the side road, Kathryn seems curious but still unconcerned since we've gone this way to the city overlook a million times before. She gives me an inquisitive look as I remain on the side road past our usual right turn, and then she starts to press me for my intentions when I turn onto a winding, dirt track that leads to the trailhead's parking area.

I wheedle a bit, explaining that our destination, Dream Canyon, is a rock climber's paradise nestled along the creek upstream from the Falls and how it's a frequent destination for professional photography shoots from around the area. She frowns, suspicious about why anybody would venture so far down an unpaved road for a portfolio. As we reach the parking area, I give up and confess that it's a hiking area that's known among naturists. Kathryn frowns. "I'm not taking my clothes off, if that's what you're suggesting," she blusters. I explain that's not what I had in mind at all; that I was more interested in seeing what the scenery was about and going someplace that was likely to be lightly trafficked on such a lovely day. I don't think she buys it, but when we pull into the small parking turnout, there are only a couple of other cars there--many fewer than we would have encountered anywhere else. Since Kathryn is somewhat (but only somewhat) mollified, she agrees to at least go for a look, and we lock our backpacks in the back of the car and set off towards the shabbily marked trailhead.

We thread our way down the slowly descending path, taking our time to enjoy the sound of the birds and the mix of forests and meadows that the trail traverses. I offer Kathryn my hand a few times as we negotiate a tangle of tree roots or stumble over sudden drops in the trail; eventually, her mood seems to soften and she just keeps hold of my hand as we walk together. After a few minutes, we feel like we have the forest to ourselves... and it's glorious. I can tell that Kathryn is finally relaxing and coming around about my choice of a destination.

A few minutes farther on, the trail's descent steepens and we suddenly reach the edge of the canyon. The trail changes from a gentle downward slope to a rocky series of switchbacks, and we come to a halt, assessing how and whether to proceed while appreciating the grandeur of the sheer rock wall rising up in front of us on the other side of the chasm. We pick our way down the first couple of switchbacks, working our way around a rock outcropping and slowly revealing a perspective of the downstream portion of the canyon, with the rushing water far below finally coming into view. Across the canyon and a quarter of a mile farther on, we can make out a group of four climbers. One is slowly picking her way up the sheer rock face, with the others--all lean, college-aged guys--spotting her from a wide ledge above the creek's bank. Kathryn stops short, finally really appreciating the panorama with a quiet "whoa." It's really quite a nice spot, and she takes a deep breath before turning to take in the whole of the vista. Suddenly, something more directly below us captures her attention. "Oh!" she starts and takes a half-step back, blushing furiously.

I peer over the edge towards the stream bed far below where Kathryn was looking and locate the sight that's put her off balance, figuratively and literally. Directly below us, along the water's edge, is an older man who is sprawled out on a broad rock at the edge of the creek. He sports a beard and several tattoos. He's also stark naked. He seems to be very comfortable in his sliver of sunshine--laying still, with his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, his tanned, muscular physique--and a sizable, tumescent cock--very much on display for anyone in the world to see.

I turn to look back at Kathryn, who is continuing to turn all sorts of colors of red--but who also seems to be unable to tear her eyes away from the sight below. A quick glance down at her chest reveals the telltale shadows of her hardening nipples, visible through both her bra and her tennis dress. Huh, she appears to be at least a little bit turned on by this discovery.

After a long moment, we lock eyes, and my face slowly splits into a grin. "Sorry. I did mention it was popular with naturists," I shrug, obviously not apologetic at all.

Kathryn swallows hard, eyes flicking down into the chasm again. "We should go," she whispers, as if the man below might be able to hear her quiet voice over the rushing sound of the creek.

It's my turn to frown. "Of course not. We're not doing anything wrong," I reason. "We're just having a nice hike and appreciating the lovely scenery out here on public land."

Kathryn glances nervously back towards the climbers, who haven't acknowledged our presence--or that of the man below us--at all, even though it seems likely that they'd be able to see any of the three of us if they bothered to look. It's as if they're in their own all-encompassing, rock-climbing world. Kathryn's eyes dart back to the rock below us again. It's clear that she can't not look, and my heart is turning circles in delight about this turn of events. I couldn't have hoped for better, I mused. Turns out, I'm wrong.

Kathryn tries plead her case again. "We have to g--oh!" I quickly glance downward to determine what's thrown her for a second time. It's the appearance of another man, scrambling onto the rock from under the cliff's edge, previously obscured from our view by the rocks and vegetation below. He's also naked as a jaybird--a bit younger than the first man, but also tan, well-built, and sporting tattoos and a short, trendy (slicked-over) haircut. His back glistens with suntan lotion as he settles himself on his side next to the first man, glances furtively up and down the canyon (but, thankfully, not upwards toward our voyeuristic perch), and then leans over for a kiss while slowly reaching out to grasp the other man's cock.

Kathryn gasps softly next to me, and I look up to see her covering her mouth in shock, eyes wide. I glance back down and am a little surprised (but also delighted) to see that after a long embrace, New Man has now bent double to lower his mouth around Suntanning Man's rapidly hardening cock. "Oh.... my.... God!" Kathryn whispers in a tiny, shaky voice. She looks back to me, eyes wide. She suddenly appears very nervous. Or aroused. Or both. "We have to go."

I glance back at the path that we'd descended, but it passes directly above the men below us. If we beat a retreat that way, it seems plausible that we'd be heard and noticed. I'd rather not disturb the happily amorous couple below. Assessing alternatives, I look onward down the trail, seeing that it levels a bit around the next turn. I also happen to know that the main trail is a loop back up to the parking lot, with a series of spurs heading down into the canyon. I squeeze Kathryn's (suddenly very sweaty) hand and quietly pull her away from the cliff's edge and forward down the path. She silently balks, but I insist, mouthing "There's another way out in this direction" as I pull her along behind me.

We pad quietly away around two more curves, the trail leading us away from the main canyon's edge a bit and into a small copse of trees tucked into a side canyon. There's a ten-foot high wall of rock rising to our left and the sound of the water below to our right grows a bit fainter through the trees. It feels more secluded here; safer. In a particularly shadowy spot, Kathryn, still a half-step behind me, tugs on my hand, hard. I stop short and turn around to find out what's wrong, and she's immediately plastered against me, pinning me up against the rock wall with her entire body, her mouth urgently devouring mine, her hands clutching urgently at my shirt. I'm caught off guard for only a fraction of a second before I enthusiastically return her kiss, my hands wild on her back and in her hair. Wow. That must have really gotten her fired up! I muse, delightedly.

We make out passionately for a long moment before my ears perk at the sound of approaching footfalls coming down the trail. I freeze and Kathryn immediately follows suit, pulling ourselves apart just as a group of two young male climbers stride briskly around the corner towards us, encumbered with heavy packs of climbing gear. Although Kathryn and I must look the picture of guilt--breathing heavily, hair mussed, lips swollen--the climbers pass us by with only a polite nod, disappearing around the next bend in the train in a cloud of dust.

After the climbers are safely out of earshot, I glance down at Kathryn. "Wanna go a little farther?" I tease, enjoying the (very much intended) double enténdre.

Kathryn chews her bottom lip for a second before looking nervously around the corner behind us. "Not here," she breathes, quietly. "Too many people." Oh. She'd picked that meaning to fixate on. Interesting. Now my mental gears are turning, wondering how far that this little excursion might take the two of us....

I decide to give it a shot. I take a deep breath, reach for her hand, and slowly shrug. "Oh, I very much disagree," I grin at her, speaking quietly but firmly. "Here is just fine. Take off your bra and give it to me."

Kathryn's eyes flash and she yanks her hand out of mine. "What? No. I told you that I'm not taking my clothes off."

"I'm not asking you to strip," I reasoned. "I just want you to give me your bra."

"Why?" she demands. Her voice is tight. Not pissed, precisely, but still difficult to read.

I shrug. "Because it fucking turns me on," I reply, truthfully. "Because I want to be able to be able to caress your breasts whenever I want and feel nothing but your soft curves through the smooth, soft, thin fabric of that dress...."

She scrunches up her mouth, looking unimpressed. But she also does not interrupt me, which is maybe a positive sign that this just might work.

So I continue: "And I want your dress to rub against your nipples while we walk, keeping you as turned on as you are right now...."

She swallows hard and glances down at her chest. Her nipples are quite erect, their contours vaguely visible through the fabric. Without a bra, they'll be much more prominent. She knows this, and so do I. There's no point in denying it, and she doesn't. A very pregnant silence hangs in the air, so I take a step towards her and whisper the last part just loud enough for her to hear.

"Every time you take a step and your breasts jiggle, I want you to be thinking about how naughty it feels to be out here without anything on underneath that dress. And about what a goddess you are...."

Her nostrils flare the tiniest bit. Flattery will get you everywhere.

"And when we pass the next group of hikers on this trail..." Her eyes snap back up to bore into mine, a fire burning in them once again. "... or we happen to be seen by some of the other, more casual explorers on our walk today..." She gasps audibly at this. "... I want them to notice, too. I want them to appreciate how confident and uninhibited you are in your sexuality, even if you're not naked. I want them to imagine what you might look like without that dress on, and I want them to fantasize about what it would be like to touch you, to suckle your breast, to trace the hard nub of your nipple with their tongue, just like I'm going to get to do when we get back up to the car...."

Kathryn is straight-up panting now. Check... and.... mate.

"Take your bra off and give it to me," I demand again, more firmly this time, holding out one outstretched hand expectantly. Then, once again more softly: "You know you want to. And you know you're going to."

Kathryn hesitates for a second longer--I can see her silently wrestling with the decision for several heartbeats--before her shoulders drop. She sighs and then begins slowly working her bra straps off her shoulders, tugging them out from under her sleeves and over her elbows, one at a time. She fumbles with the clasp behind her back for a moment--and I definitely don't help, enjoying the fact that she's complying with my order all by herself. Finally, she manages to tug the crumpled garment free and extracts it from her right sleeve, offering to drop it into my outstretched hand. She looks sheepish for a fraction of a second before she composes herself, flashes me a defiant look, and then thrusts her chest out triumphantly. Naughty, indeed.

I catch the delicate ball of fabric as Kathryn drops it into my palm, closing the remaining distance between us in a single step and clutching for one of her nearly-exposed breasts, kneading it roughly through the silky, Spandex-rich material of her dress. I trace its outside edge with my fingertips, circling closely--so closely--to her engorged nipple before letting my fingertips drift away. I bend down and kiss her gently, running the tip of my tongue softly over the sensitive spot on her top lip, before whispering to her: "Delicious." Kathryn whimpers, very, very softly. I continue, "Alright, beautiful. Let's go explore."

I tuck Kathryn's discarded bra into the cargo pocket on my shorts, and I can feel her whole body tense as I take her hand again and gently tug her onward with me on the path. I can feel the nervous energy radiating from her as we emerge from the copse of trees back into the sun, where the trail begins bending back towards the canyon's edge.

We walk for another five minutes before the trail emerges onto a rock outcropping that provides a different vantage point over a wide swath of the canyon. As I pull Kathryn with me to the edge, I can see that we're much nearer to the rock climbers now-- they're almost directly below us, with the climbing woman somewhat higher up the wall than when we saw them previously. I can feel Kathryn craning her neck to see if they've noticed us (they haven't) and then glancing nervously back upstream to see if the men that we'd seen before are visible from here (they aren't). It's as if we exist in a bubble above and apart from the other people in the canyon--the two of us, the rocks, the gently swaying trees, the glorious early summer sun, and an endless blue sky.

I pull Kathryn a single step closer to the edge of the path, then gently hold her in place as I tuck in behind her, pressing the length of my body against hers and sliding my hands first to her sides and then up her body to cradle and knead her breasts. I can feel her shudder and then lean back into me as I alternate between kneading her breasts nearly flat under my palms and cupping them as if holding them up in offering to the world around us. I can see that Kathryn is peering down under half-lidded eyes to see if we've been noticed yet, but she's making no move to stop me. Kathryn's breath catches just a bit, suggesting that my ministrations are doing something nice for her. After a moment, she throws caution to the wind entirely, throwing one arm up and over her head to tousle my hair, giving me even better access to her outstretched chest.

We remain entangled like this, caressing one another in the sunshine, for a long moment. I'm just weighing whether to try and slip one my hands inside the open neckline of her dress to move things along when I hear the distinctive crunch of footsteps on gravel behind us once again. I grab Kathryn more firmly, more assertively mauling her breasts and very much pinning her in place against me. Half a moment later, she also hears the sound and freezes, her body suddenly as taut as a bowstring.

I hear the footsteps approach to a short distance behind us and then slow. I glance down at Kathryn, who has squeezed her eyes shut tightly (this time in embarrassment, for sure!), and then I slowly turn my head to see who's approaching. It's a young-ish couple, maybe college-aged. The young man is wearing only a pair of soccer shorts. His muscular chest is gleaming with a fine sheen of perspiration. The woman, clad in a white sports bra and a pair of hot pink running shorts, has her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Both are wearing dark sunglasses, but given their faint smirks, there's no doubt that they've seen us.

I stand fast at the side of the trail, my hands continuing to slowly caress Kathryn's breasts and pin her in place against me, waiting for our interlopers to pass by behind us. Instead, they come to stop a few yards away. The woman smiles mischievously and whispers something inaudible to her partner while he takes a leisurely pull from the water bottle that he's carrying. She fiddles with the strap of her day bag but doesn't move on or turn away. This turn of events raises the stakes significantly-- Kathryn and I haven't just been seen, we're being watched.

Well, anybody who knows me knows that I'm a bona fide people pleaser. And an unrepentant exhibitionist. So: give the people what they want!

I begin to turn the two of us around to face our new audience, and Kathryn emits a tiny squeak of protest, too bashful to marshal a full complaint. My response is to tighten my grip on her torso even more firmly and assertively guide her in a wide circle around me as I turn in place. She reluctantly follows, but remains rigid, trembling slightly. I don't have to look down to know that her eyes are still closed. I take a deep breath and resume kneading Kathryn's breasts through the fabric of her dress, locking eyes for a long moment with the woman and then with the man as I firmly manipulate my wife's breasts, exposing her contours to these strangers. When I begin to roll her (still achingly hard) nipples between my fingertips and thumbs, I hear Kathryn softly whimper. The couple also appears to be growing affected by our public display of affection; the man reaches down to adjust his hardening erection through the fabric of his shorts. The woman licks her lips, her restless fingertips slowly and unconsciously working down the strap of her bag towards her own breast.

I lean in to plant a lingering, wet, kiss on the crook of Kathryn's neck, just below her earlobe. "They're both still here, and they're watching me touch you," I breathe into Kathryn's ear, addressed as if just to Kathryn but clearly spoken loudly enough that our audience will be able to hear. I can feel Kathryn panting softly now, and I glance upwards again, surprised but delighted to see that the woman has moved a half-step closer to her companion. Her hand has replaced his, casually cradling his erection through the material of his shorts. "I think they like what they see," I whisper-shout to Kathryn. "I think she's going to get him off right here on the trail watching me tug on your hard nipples...."

Kathryn sucks in a deep breath and her eyes pop open, glassy and unfocused, until they alight on the woman's fingers, which are wrapped around an impressively swelling bulge straining against the front of the man's shorts. A sharp shudder reverberates through Kathryn's body, betraying her rising arousal, and I more boldly grasp and tug both of her nipples--hard--eliciting an audible moan. I peek down over Kathryn's shoulder and confirm that her unrestrained nipples are both fully erect, standing proudly outward from her chest and creating unmistakably obvious peaks in the thin material of her dress. If Kathryn had initially been concerned about the contours of her body being exposed to these strangers, the inhibition seems to have been swept from her mind. Kathryn swallows hard and licks her lips. I can feel her hips slowly begin to rock as she watches the woman's hand begin to slowly stroke the length of her partner's lengthening cock.

"Mmm. He looks pretty big," I comment off-handedly as I press myself even more tightly into Kathryn's back, my also-hardening erection grinding into her slowly gyrating ass. I rake my fingertips around the sides of Kathryn's breasts and down her ribcage, stretching the fabric of her dress even more snugly around her heaving chest, leaving none of her curves to our admirers' imagination. I look the woman squarely in the face as I blurt out: "How do you think she manages to take that monster?"

Kathryn gasps in genuine shock and clutches both of my hands in hers, clearly mortified. It's an unabashedly crude thing for me to have uttered aloud. Especially in public. And particularly to a pair of complete strangers. Except... we all know the reputation that the trail we've come to hike today and has. And we are also both basically feeling our partners up in front of one another already. What exactly is a "bridge too far" in this sort of a scenario?

Slow grins spread over both of our admirers' faces as they absorb the implication--the suggestion--hanging heavily in the air. Without a shred of hesitation, the willowy blonde very calmly removes her sunglasses, deliberately opening her day bag and slipping them inside. I watch as she locks eyes with Kathryn, lifts the day bag strap up and over her head, and then slowly--ever so slowly--kneels to set the bag on the ground beside them. Neither her smirk, her intent gaze, nor the glint in her eyes falter as she turns toward her partner, slips her fingers into the top of his waistband, and lifts it over his swollen member, letting his shorts slip down his muscular thighs to pool around his ankles.

As the man's cock is exposed, I can feel Kathryn begin to tremble. A gentle breeze ripples across the four of us, and the man's penis swells and bobs, jutting outward nearly to the horizontal, every ridge and vein plainly visible in the bright mid-day sunlight. Kathryn squeezes my hands in hers with a ferocity that I've rarely felt, her fingernails digging into my palms.

The woman licks her lips, glances up into her partner's leering face, and then turns back to look at the two of us. "Like this," she announces, in a clear, confident alto. It's the first sound that either of them has made since they strolled up to our little overlook. And it's followed by the second--a deep groan from the man--as the woman leans forward, swirls the tip of her tongue around the tip of his penis, and then engulfs fully half of it into her mouth.

Kathryn's tremors intensify into fully fledged convulsions as the woman begins to bob on the man's cock. Casually, as if he hadn't a care in the world--and wasn't standing out in the middle of a forest not ten feet away from two complete strangers--the man lifts one leg to step out of his discarded shorts, squares up with a wider and more authoritative stance, winds his fingers into his partner's messy hair, and begins to rock his hips, beginning to slowly and deliberately fuck her face. The length of the man's shaft begins to glisten in the sunlight as the woman expertly slathers his rapidly hardening member with her saliva, the smacking sounds of her lips beginning to carry.

A strangled sound of pure arousal begins to rumble from somewhere deep inside Kathryn as she continues to shiver helplessly in my embrace. She couldn't bear to look at the couple before; now, she can't tear her eyes away from their unabashedly public carnal display. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Kathryn has never seen anybody else engaged in sex live and in person before. I also suspect that playing voyeur to their exhibitionism is completely melting her mind.

And so I don't encounter an ounce of resistance from Kathryn when I begin lifting our clasped hands upwards, all the way up until they're stretched out directly over Kathryn's head. And I'm certain that she's surrendered herself completely to her baser instincts when I gently tug my hands free of her grasp and drag them back down the length of her body to clutch at the hem of her tennis dress. We both know what's about to happen as I begin drawing it upwards, exposing her (once again slowly rolling) hips... her navel... the lower curves of her breasts... The man watches intently as I slowly peel the garment all the way up and over Kathryn's head, baring her entire, pale torso to the warm sunshine--and his hungry gaze.

I drop Kathryn's dress at her feet and cradle both of her now-bared breasts in my hands, kneading them and tugging on her nipples. Kathryn is positively vibrating with sexual energy now, and it's no surprise to me that when I glance down at her again, I find that her cheeks and chest are flushed a deep red. She's panting hard, and I can't resist plunging one of my hands inside the waistband of her leggings, wriggling my fingers into her panties and finding the juncture between her legs to be absolutely soaking wet. My middle finger glides effortlessly through her moisture, slipping down the length of her cleft, and parting the satiny folds at her opening. As I curl it up inside of her, I can immediately feel her muscles clenching against the intrusion. Kathryn throws her head back in ecstasy and moans aloud; there's no mistaking how very close she already is to orgasm as I slowly slide my finger in and out of her.

This fact must also be obvious to the man, because I see the tendons in his (charmingly scruffy!) jaw clench just as Kathryn cries out. With remarkable (enviable!) strength and agility, the man grasps his partner under both arms and hoists her gently back onto her feet in a single, smooth motion. In a flash, he's also stripped her of both her sports bra and her wispy pink shorts. In the space of another breath, he's effortlessly swept her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around him, his sizable erection throbbing just below the entrance to her obscenely splayed, smoothly shaven labia. The woman is quivering in his grasp, straining to impale herself upon him, but he exudes an athletic power and control as he holds her aloft, pinning her body against his, gazing intently over her shoulder at the two of us.

"Kathryn! Watch! Now!" I hiss, and as Kathryn obediently drops her head and opens her eyes, the man locks eyes with her and ever-so-slowly lowers his partner onto his cock. At the sight of him sinking deeply inside of the woman (and hearing the woman's guttural moan of approval), Kathryn comes apart, her body wracked with spasms and the velvet walls of her pussy convulsing around my fingers.

I hear a distant whoop! from off behind us, and I jerk my head around, searching for the source of the sound. The female climber lashed to the opposing canyon wall is almost directly across from us now. Her feet are firmly planted on a perpendicular face of the rock, turning her sideways to our overlook. She's leaning back deeply into her harness, one chalky hand clenched tightly around her top rope, the other working busily between her legs. She's staring across at the four of us, an enormous grin spread across her sweaty face.

My eyes flick downward, alighting on the ledge where the climber's companions are gathered. The man belaying the climber is frantically craning his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it is on our side of the gorge that's set his partner aflame without losing his grip on the woman's undulating rope. His buddies, unencumbered by any particular responsibility except to spot the climber, are staring skyward, slack-jawed, openly gawking at their friend as she pleasures herself. One hastily tugs at the fastening of his shorts, freeing his cock and wrapping his fist around it. The other catches this movement out of the corner of his eye, his gaze darting back and forth between the woman far above and the man standing beside him. In a split second, he's also made a decision, dropping to his knees in front of his buddy and grabbing the man's hips as he devours the man's dick.

My heart is pounding and I also begin to pant as scenes of debauchery unfold on every side; it feels like every available drop of blood in my body is racing between my legs, leaving none to support the operation of my brain. I turn back to face our admirers and find them moving together in a steady rhythm, fucking one another with a casual familiarity. As Kathryn continues to convulse against me, their pace steadily increases, the sound of their bodies slapping together becoming louder as the man raises and drops the woman onto his pelvis with slowly-intensifying authority. Before long, we're all cumming--the woman, first, with a keening wail; the man, next, with a roar, as he slams her downward, driving deep inside her and filling her with his spunk. Although Kathryn has been quivering in an extended orgasmic stupor since the couple started fucking, another distinct climax overtakes her in the wake of the couple's orgasm. Her panties are suddenly awash in a renewed gush of lubrication as her pussy squelches around my sopping digits, and she cries out as her body finally collapses limply against me. I'm helpless to stop the tsunami of arousal from sweeping me away, as well, and my throbbing cock unloads pulse after pulse of hot, sticky cum into my briefs.

For a long moment, nobody moves, both couples simply clutching one another in a breathless, post-orgasmic haze. Kathryn seems to "come to" first as her focus converges from someplace beyond the distant horizon onto our naked accomplices. When she drops her eyes to "discover" that she, too, is brazenly topless in the middle of a sunny, completely exposed hiking trail and is still slowly rocking her pelvis against my hand, which is still buried deep inside of her pussy, her "fight or flight" response seems to kick into overdrive. Kathryn squeaks as she flushes an incandescent color of red, wriggles herself free of my embrace, frantically casts about for her discarded dress, grabs it, and dashes off down the trail, headed back up the way that we had come.

I gather my wits a little more slowly. After several minutes of silence, our muscular male voyeur winces and hoists his girlfriend up and off his glistening cock. Although I know that I urgently need to get moving to catch up with Kathryn, I'm momentarily entranced as I watch a trail of white liquid dribble from the intersection of the couple's bodies onto the dusty path below. I absent-mindedly lick my lips, pondering exactly how much trouble I'd be in if I dropped to my knees and offered to lap up the creamy white liquid that's slowly oozing from between the attractive woman's swollen, hairless pussy lips. Or, like the climber down below, wordlessly leaned in to suck the purple crown of the man's dripping cock clean....

In the end, my better angels prevail, and I shake off my delirium, nodding appreciatively to the couple (who no longer seem quite like strangers) as I adjust my now uncomfortably damp shorts and prepare to set off after Kathryn. As the woman pulls her sports bra and running shorts back on, the man throws his chin out at me and utters his first words of the afternoon: "Cute wife, man." I'm a bit taken aback as he raises his hand for -- are you kidding me? -- a fist bump. While still casually standing there in the middle of the trail. In the nude. Ballsy. Unquestionably ballsy. The youth these days....

Not wanting to be perceived as snubbing the man responsible for having just gotten us all off, I grin, offer up a lame "Thanks, man. Your girl, too," and give him a bump using my right fist as I jog past. It's only then that I realize that I'd used the still-sticky right fist that had until very recently been buried inside of Kathryn's panties. I cringe a bit with embarrassment at my obliviousness. I've almost reached the first curve in the trail when I glance back over my shoulder to see the man staring thoughtfully at the knuckles on his hand before reaching over to grasp his partner by the hair to pull her lips to his fist. She smiles as her tongue darts out to trace a line across his knuckles. Holy fuck, she's actually tasting Kathryn's cum....

* * * * *

My stride is a lot longer than Kathryn's, so even though I'm moving a bit gingerly given my still-semi-hard cock and the mess in my underwear, we emerge from the top of the trail into the parking area at about the same time. Kathryn is huffing and puffing when I finally catch up to her, and her face remains the color scarlet, so I'm not certain exactly how furious that she might be with me by the time that I'm close enough to reach a hand out to grasp her shoulder.

"Kathryn, wait.... I'm so sorry," I plead with her.

She spins on me, a terrifying intensity burning in her eyes. "Open up the fucking car. Right. Now," she growls.

Thoroughly convinced that I'm going to be sleeping on the couch for a month, I fumble for my keys, clicking the unlock button on the fob, and take a step towards the passenger-side door to open it for her in a last-ditch bid to recover some--any--goodwill with a small act of chivalry. I'm completely caught off guard when Kathryn quietly interrupts me before I can take even two steps: "Not my door. The back."

Confused, I freeze and look to Kathryn, searching for an explanation. She stares back for a second before huffing and striding resolutely around the back of the car to throw open the rear liftgate. When she decides that I'm not moving sufficiently quickly, she barks another round of staccato commands, pointing at the trunk area of our SUV: "In. Now."

Still not comprehending, I join her at the rear of the car and gingerly perch on the lip of the trunk area as Kathryn's still-steely gaze follows my every move. As soon as I'm sitting, Kathryn is atop me, toppling me over backwards as smashes her mouth to mine.

"You... didn't... listen to me..." Kathryn growls between aggressive, biting kisses. She thrusts her tongue into my mouth and sucks hard before pulling away again, the fire in her eyes no longer angry so much as determined. Calculating. Smoldering. "I told you that I wasn't going to expose myself out there." Her fingers rip first at my belt, then at the zipper of my shorts, tearing my pants open and tugging them--and my damp briefs--down and exposing me to the (still thankfully empty) parking lot. I try to roll away, to cover my embarrassingly sticky self from any potential onlookers, attempting to conceal the evidence of my orgasm from Kathryn.

"No way, buck-o. You're mine now," she declares, just before doubling over to lick my cum-coated cock, from balls to tip. As she enthusiastically fellates me back to an erection, I ponder my good fortune that despite Kathryn's misgivings around going "all in" with my exhibitionist proclivities at the outset, the overall horniness of the afternoon must have pushed some of her buttons, too. When she tugs off her sneakers and leggings and panties and clambers atop me to impale herself properly on my dick without bothering to pull the hatch closed behind her, I wonder if perhaps my deviances had even rubbed off a bit on her....

Kathryn doesn't bother to stop fucking me when we hear voices coming up the trail and into the parking lot; she merely pauses a moment to tug on my shirt, wordlessly suggesting that I scoot backwards to pull my legs inside the car, and then she pulls the hatch closed behind us. A slow grin spreads across her face when a shadow darkens our rear window and a man's face appears, pressed to the glass, cupped in his hands to block out the glare of the mid-day sun. Without otherwise acknowledging our new voyeur, Kathryn cooly peels her now-dusty dress up over her head and tosses it in a ball next to us, grinding herself--if anything--a little more vigorously against me.

We can hear the man's soft whistle and hushed "Fuck me" through the tinted glass before a more distant female's voice admonishes him to "quit being a fuckin' perv and get in the goddamned car!" After another beat, he reluctantly obeys, and Kathryn and I are finally left alone--seemingly, for the first time the entire afternoon--to focus entirely and exclusively on pleasuring one another.

* * * * *

"Lunch at the pizza place, then?" Kathryn ventures cheerfully as we untangle ourselves following our second round of climaxes, this time together. "Maybe we can text Raph and Malin and see if they want to meet us."

We're attempting to re-identify and find our way back into all the discarded clothing piled around us, and it's a tricky proposition with two of us crouched in the small space of the SUV's "trunk" area, especially since we're also both sweaty and sticky and leaking cum. "Kathryn, we smell like sex embodied," I protest. "What in the world would they think?"

Kathryn just winks back at me. "I was thinking that they might be interested in hearing about this lovely little trail that you've found."