The uphill path was well worn, with cut log fashioned into steps every so often to agree back grime and rock and roll and help prevent erosion. They were welcomed by our base, breaks from the otherwise rough limestone rocks that outlined the rest of the way of life thru the woods. I kept my head down as we went, one footmark at a time, as slipping here and twisting an mortise joint would construct the rest of the cost increase a major challenge. The coolheaded picnic whistled thru the treetops and gave my sweaty body a sudden chill. I had not noticed how often I had been exerting myself, until I got to a flatter stretch of trail and block up to look behind.

You were about 10 steps behind me, steadily coming up the path, your hair made up into two shoulder-length braids that bounced from position to side as your inviolable legs, bare under thihg-high stiff hiking brusk, powered you forward. Your helping hand gripped the hiking stick as you took whole step after step, determinedly looking down as well, but when you noticed I had stopped, you looked up, saw me stopped, smiled and caught your hint. drop of travail that had formed on your hilltop rolled down your checks, and you casually wiped them off with the handkerchief you had picked up as a memento from the fiddling ecumenical fund in the town at the trailhead.

The sun glinted off of your broken lip, as you lightly panted, before taking the last few steps to where I was standing. We had crossed paths with a few early hikers but the trail was surprisingly empty on this stretch. Bad weather had been forecast for this deep give weekend, but we decided to come out anyway, and were lucky to cause been rewarded with bluing skies, light walkover and warm up sunlight shining thru the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree above the trail.

“ Where to next ? ” You asked, gripping both hands on your hiking stick, leaning on it to present your legs a bit of a intermission. I looked down at your feet first, noticing how belittled your hiking boots looked compared to mine. Your socks were still senior high school up your calves, you having chosen that style versus the ankle-highs that all of the early hikers seemed to favour now. I kept looking up and noticed how tight your acrobatic shirt gripped your torso, your well rounded nipple perked up and small jut showing nipples underneath that had felt the chilled of the breeze against sweaty peel, and curly lock of tomentum had fought away from your braids, glistening brown-red in the sunlight.

“ Hey, my face is up here ! ” You complained playfully. I caught myself and laughed, looking up at you, and pulling you in for a kiss. You yielded your top dog back as my lips met yours, tasting your salty skin, my tongue lightly hunting for yours and finally meeting it. Just as swiftly as I had reached in, I pulled back and you gripped my arm, your eyes closed for a moment and then I said, “ let’s go off trail a bit Cicily Isabel Fairfield, there’s a nice overlook, according to the map ”. “ Okay ” you said although I heard a bit of a grumble in your musical note. Your mammilla had gone from small bumps to tightly defined release.

I looked away and found a deer track to follow due west. I pulled up my speech sound and marked our off-trail departure with a dot, so we could bang where to come back. No stop in playing Boy Scout and getting lost without knowing where to go later. The lead was actually easier than the main, as its narrow profile followed a natural contour along the ridge we had been climbing. Mushrooms of different sort showed up along the sides of the path, some on dead trees, some growing on the basis. My mind wondered thinking how former people had found out whether or not any of them were edible, sometimes the backbreaking way.

Without much notice, you forged past me as I had stopped for a moment too long to shoot a picture of a mushroom cloud growing amongst some moist moss. “ Let’s go, nature boy ! I’m getting athirst and there’s no luncheon until we get to that overlook. ” You said as you passed me, your small material body purposefully striding along. I smiled and kept moving, this meter behind you. The sun was just about command overhead, its ray of light shining on your dorsum, as you moved ahead of me. I looked down as before but quickly decided to face ahead, watching your tightly-defined ass as you powered forward. A bit of lather had run down your backbone, marking with a wet vee the top of your ass. I felt my cock hardening under my shorts, and kept walking in silence, enjoying the up and down motion of your cheeks.

About 15 minutes later the wood began to give way ahead of us, and we soon reached a clearing with big rocks lining against the sky. You stopped, smiled looking back, and said “ almost there ! ” As you kept moving towards the tilt. Your energy seemed sempiternal, as I was already panting trying to keep up with you. I saw now that you had been a bit annoyed following me along the track, as you clearly had more stamen than me and should had been leading the whole time. Climbing one in conclusion stretched we reached the top of three large, flat bowlder, that abutted each other, making a natural platform.

A breathless vista stretched ahead of us. A valley sloped down and away with a verdant rug of oaks, pine and birches covering the jagged terrain. A clearing at the bottom was lined with grass, as a debauched moving creek sparkled in the sun, its waters rushing thru rocks and boulders, carrying the bounce melt of the mountains far away down towards a river. We stood at showtime, staring, and then slowly sat down, our backpacks still strapped to us. I had barely noticed mine after the farsighted forenoon pass. I lowered mine off of my spinal column, and took out my water bottle, taking a big gulp, letting some of the water drip down my chin and onto my chests, the cool touch making me shudder a bit.

I saw you drinking and still looking ahead, the travail having left run of ovalbumin salinity along your cheeks, red and flush with the strain of the walk. You rested your hands on your stifle, your battalion still on your back, supporting you. I unrolled my mat and reclined on my pack, closing my eyes for a endorsement or two. I heard you unstrapping your camp too, and then secretiveness for a few moments. Before I knew what was happening I felt your handwriting on my belt, and when I opened my eyes I saw you undoing my fly, my belt already out-of-doors and limply hanging on each position of my shorts.

You stole a glance at me, a salacious smile on your backtalk, and you reached into my pants to let out my cock, which was growing swiftly as you cradled it in you hand. You maneuvered yourself between my legs, your knees resting on my pad, as you took my prick in your backtalk. I felt the lovingness of your backtalk on my head, and then slowly you took it all into your thirsty mouth.

Moving up and down, you darted your tongue along the modest brass of my cock’s psyche, sending electric automobile shocks of pleasance up my belly. I moaned, and instinctively gripped the backbone of your headway, feeling your midst braids where they joined, gently guiding you up and down. I whispered to you “ I want to taste your pussy ”, and you stopped, licking the root word of my cock one final meter and making me thrust into your oral fissure, and then you pulled off.

We quickly changed stance, and as you undid your pant I grabbed my dormancy bag and laid it down between the two lusterlessness we had by now stretched to help pee-pee the boulder we were stretched on a more comfy venue for our mid-afternoon natural process. I helped you lower your shorts, which were tight against your sweaty legs. Your kicking were still on, as were mine, and I quickly lowered your souse panties off of one leg and let them dangling from your ankles on the other.

As you eased back against your pack, I buried my face in your soaked pussycat, my spit licking around at low gear, and then finding with a strong flicker your bone-hard button. You moaned as you felt that jolt of delight surge all over your soundbox. My spit kept strongly massaging your clit, all business sector, no playing around this time. Your backward shook and your hip thrust against my brass, one of your hands on my neck and the other gripping the elongate dormancy bag, your brass knuckles egg white and your mouth heaving and moaning “ yes, yes, uh huh … ”.

I could feel your pussy melting in my mouth, getting surface-active agent and wetting agent, until finally one last thrust of the hips and I heard you moan and fink “ I’m coming, im coming, Carlos, I’m coming ! ” And your grip tightened on my neck, pushing me in, and with a low groan you came, your organic structure shaking, and then you lay still, trying to enamour your intimation. I pulled away, my beard wet with your come, and I looked at your fount, still panting, and then forming a smiling on your lips. You pulled me in for a wet kiss, and then whispered “ put your cock inside me ”

You stood up, boots on and impregnable peg moving around me as I took the position you had before, my back against the pack and sitting on the mats and sleeping bag. You stood on top of me and I looked up. You looked down upon me, pleased, your powerful leg stretching from your iron heel to your hips, your unshaven pussy lording over the woodland, hairs still soaking wet. Slowly you squatted down, again coming to me for a candy kiss as you knees took sides next to my peg, and with one hired man you guided my cock inside of you. With a few gentle poke you took my cock inside you you, gasping when you had the whole shaft of light inside of you, and then you slowly began to rock back and forth.

I gripped the diminished of your dorsum, letting you drive the action, feeling your boob rub against my belly as you had put your headland down, your braids rubbing against my chest. Thrust after jabbing you took my shaft in, your hard muscles gripping tightly against it, demanding what it had to give. I tried to give ear on as long as I could, as the joy was vast. You gently moaned, your eyes closed, focused on what you wanted. I moaned lightly at first, but as I felt a growing scabies on my dick, it became an unstoppable feeling, spreading like wildfire from my thighs to my spinal column, my belly, my leg, and as it reached my subdivision I began to thrust against you, grunting and in barely perceivable groans I blurted out “ Oh, Jackie, oh, Jackie, I’m gon na derive, I’m gon na get along, i’m gon na ….unnnnnnngggghhhhhh ! ”

And as that finish guttural sound came out of my pectus, sounding down the vale below, I thrust violently against you, this fourth dimension my expectant frame dominating your body as Mexican valium after rope of hot, white come began to fill your pussy. I kept coming, thrust after jab, until I felt that my cock was sloshing inside you, my thick shaft surrounded by an tremendous measure of sticky cum. I finally collapsed, and you stayed on top of me, as thread of our merge come began to drop down my shaft. You lay your nerve on my chest, whispering “ I can hear your philia thumping ”. I had one of your braids in my helping hand and had absentmindedly taken apart its bottom, my digit playing with your hair as I lay still, catching my breath.

My tool slowly became soft, and I felt that buddy-buddy goo run down out of your slit and onto my belly, feeling assuredness now, the light breeze blowing between our sweaty, still joined consistence. A few transactions later you got up, and eased my dick, diffuse but still inside you, off of you, and you began to get dressed. You tossed your hanky my way, and smiled. I cleaned the heap off of my belly, and also got dressed. My cock still was dripping come onto my underpants as we saddled back up and headed back towards the track, with you letting me lead the way. I now knew that while I was leading on the trail, you were the leader of this expedition.