Long distance made close (2)

ON THE TRAILS

The drive to the trails is short, we don’t say much along the way, and his hand finds its place upon my thigh again.

Car parked and boots laced, we start to march up the muddy trails, following the lead of his smartphone. The air is cold but, with the warmth of our clothing and our movement, it is comfortable. One step after another is made in the sucking mud as we march toward our target. Apart from our boots, there is no noise in the late winter forest. The smell is fresh, clean, nothing but pine trees.

“It shouldn’t be too far down this next hill…assuming the service is good around here.” “That’s alright, it’s beautiful out here.”

At that, he stops and looks around, soaking in all of the evergreen beauty the day has to offer us. Done with the surroundings he reaches his hand toward me. I walk forward and our fingers entwine, as usual his hand is giving mine all of his heat.

Hand in hand we make our way up the muddy hill, through the pine trees and halfway down the hill, stopping at a tree bent in half by some powerful force of nature.

“This should be the place. They mentioned a halved tree.” “Where should we be looking?” “Any hole where you can hide a package.” he replies. “How big is the package?” I ask, knowing his response. “Some are bigger than others.” said with a wink. “Mmm Hmmm.”

Letting go of each other’s hands we start to circle the area, in search of the little bottle or box someone hid there before us. The ground is soft, with a bit of snow still clinging to the darker patches of the ground. After a few moments of diligent searching, I spot a hole in a nearby tree. I step forward to inspect it. As I get closer I can see a bit of white, shining through the darkness of the hole. “Maybe I’ve found it!” I allow myself to think. There’s a fallen tree in front of the hole. It has been dried by the Sun, I lay my stomach over this tree and reach into the tree’s hole.

I feel something cold, cylindrical…a prescription pill bottle. Seeing through the bottle, there is a small pencil and a little slip of paper inside.

“I found it!” I scream looking over my shoulder, only to find him staring at my butt. “Liking what you see?” “Always have my love. What’s inside the cache?” “Just a little bit of paper.” “Alright, I guess we just have to sign this one.”

Sitting next to me on the fallen tree he and I unroll the paper and sign our names and date our find. Mission accomplished I put the bottle back where I had found it, ready for the next person to come find.

Everything set, he holds my hand and we take a moment to enjoy the stillness of our surroundings.

“You’re so cold.” “I didn’t bring any gloves.” I tell him.

Lifting my hands to his face he starts to rub them with his warm hands while blowing his hot breath on them. My hands begin to tingle, cold becoming warm, in his hands. Swinging his leg over the tree he pulls me into his embrace, my back to his chest, protecting me from the cold. Continuing to warm up my hands and now adding the occasional kiss to my cheek as well.

I fold my arms across my chest and he hugs me from behind while I turn my head and start kissing his neck. “Good activity?” He asks, turning to face me.

“Good activity.” I tell him, leaning in and kissing his soft lips.

His tongue searching the contours of my lips while his hands hold my waist, we start melting into each other. My neck growing weary of kissing someone behind me, I swing my legs around and straddle him. I unzip his jacket and hide my hands in his clothing while he pulls me close. I shake my hair out of my face and start to lean in to continue tasting him but, he stops me.

“Wait.” “What?” “I…I thought I heard something.”

We both listen for a moment, me still straddling him, his hands all over my back. No noises come from the woods around us.

He reaches up and brushes my hair aside resting his warm hand on the back of my neck. With this hand he pulls me close, our noses touch and we just enjoy that closeness for a moment. Breathing sharply he come forward quickly and kisses me, lips, tongues and hands all move about exploring each other. All I can focus on is the warmth of his tongue and the sharp scratching noises from our outdoors clothing. Wanting to feel more I slide my hands lower, pulling his shirt up a bit and placing my on his bare back.

He jumps up from the shock of my cold hands on his warm back.

“Nope!” He exclaims with a smile on his face, fighting to free himself of my icy hands. “What, you don’t want to keep me warm?” “Not if it means my having to be hypothermic for you.” He says quickly turning his gaze toward the path nearby.

I heard it too, voices.

“How ‘bout we continue this back in the warm apartment?”

BACK HOME

Back home we noticed how late it was and just how hungry he had become from the hike. With that we decided that we might as well head out and grab something to eat.

As soon as we got back in the apartment, he ran into the bathroom and I headed to the bedroom to look for something to wear tonight. Ripping apart my luggage, I hear the shower start up and the unbuckling of a belt. I continue my search, thinking about joining him for a nice warm, reunion shower. Thoughts of steam surrounding our hard bodies while rubbing against each other flashes across my mind.

Having found a cute skirt and a matching shirt I make my way toward the bathroom only to notice that the water has stopped. I hear the curtain pull back and the towel being rubbed against his moist skin. A few moments pass before he exits, in a towel, smelling of his cologne.

“That was a quick shower.” “I know, I’m really hungry. I was hoping we could leave shortly.”

DATE

Even with the leggings the cold air occasionally finds its way up my skirt on the way to the restaurant. But, the walk downtown isn’t long and I am warm enough with his arm resting on my waist. The streets aren’t dead but, the temperature has most opting to stay in their cars. We’re both dressed casually, him in some slacks and sports jacket, me in my skirt and blouse. He smells delicious.

We reach the restaurant, a small Italian place made with old stones and with a hanging wooden sign, swaying in the light breeze. Very cute from the outside.

Inside the light is soft and red, candles and some dim hanging lights are all there is for illumination, reflecting off of the red paint on the walls. The light and the warmth combine to make me feel a bit sleepy, not mention the smell of all that pasta. We are taken to our table by the maître d’ and left with some water and a bit of bread. We sit next to each other.

We chat about my trip here, his work, and our hopes for our future. Neither of us looks at the menu until after the waitress has come by, twice. The whole time we’re warming our hands on the candle. Somehow during our conversation, his hand has found its way back on my thigh, that pleasing warmth welcome after such a long spell without it.

The food arrives, it is warm and it is plentiful but, not particularly special in any way. It doesn’t matter, we’re not here for the food.

The food now eaten, with only our drinks remaining I feel his hand back on my thigh. He starts to move it upward softly, slowly. Even through the leggings his hand is tickling my inner thigh. Sliding further and further up I eventually start to worry about being seen, my hand darts below the table to meet his. He meets my playful glare with grin.

“No one will see. I’ll be lookout. Relax.”

I want to protest but, he starts to push his hand upward again before I say anything. Looking out for the waitress I feel the heat of his hand hovering between my legs. Our waitress is running out back, grabbing someone else’s meal. His fingers start to explore my panty lines, making circular patterns all over, warmth floods the area.

“Just act normal.” “Until we get caught.” I protest.

At that his light touch becomes much more firm, pushing against my labia. I don’t know if he can feel it but, I start to become wet. The waitress is back out from the kitchen, serving the dishes. Following my folds his fingers move up ever so slightly, he knows just where he is. The circular patterns continue but, they’re smaller now, focused on just one spot. Starting with a tingling in my butt and inner thighs, all of the muscles below my navel start to loosen, becoming more receptive to his touch. Where’s the waitress, I think while the pressure continues to build. With his “free” hand he grabs his glass and finishes his drink, all the while continuing to pleasure me. There is no way he can’t feel how wet I am, even through all of the clothing.

“How is everything folks?” the waitress asks from my blind spot. Looking a bit flustered he replies with a quick “Fine.” “Any dessert tonight?” “No. No, we’ll be fine.” “Can we have the bill?” I add, grabbing his hand, squeezing it a bit too strongly. “Sure thing, I’ll be right back.”

Staring at him with a mixture of lust and disbelief I ask “Lookout?” “She must have snuck up while I was drinking.” “Let’s just pay and get back home…and finish what you’ve started.” Both of us smile at the idea.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1y7b19/long_distance_made_close_2