Lumbersexual (Novella) (13 page)

“Do you like doing this?” I asked.

He paused, and I realized how stupid my question was.  Then he looked up and his intense eyes met mine.  “I can’t live without it.”  But before he continued, I thought that he muttered, “Without you.”

And I couldn’t take it.  “Come here, now please.”

He shoved his jeans down to his knees, not even bothering to take them all the way off, so desperate to be inside me, pressing into me on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.  I could tell we weren’t using a condom.  No latex smell, no plastic feel, no unnatural stickiness.

Just him and me, my head thrown back on the rug, my hair curly and wild, his dropping into his face.

And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.  I wanted a picture.  I wanted time to stand still.

But he got me out of my head and into my body, and all I felt was thumping pleasure, focusing sensation, caresses alternated with getting fucked hard, playing my body like it was territory he’d explored and loved to return to again and again.

A secret spot all his.

And mine, because yes, he kept going, and yes, my blood pulsed, and yes, my body swelled up to meet him, and yes, fuck, yes, I clenched, all the tension, all the feeling, his hard beautiful cock in me.  I was so wet, and I came so hard, almost flapping on the floor.  He’d wrenched it all out of me with every delicious move, and he kept going and going, keeping my orgasm riding, until he closed his eyes.  I watched his face.  He thrust up into me hard, and the pain on his face was worth it because it wasn’t pain, it was pleasure, and he released into me, his chapped lips coming down on my forehead and his arms wrapped around me like vines.

I wrapped my legs around his ass and my arms around his shoulders and held on as he relaxed into me.

I wasn’t letting him go.

Ever.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Our stomachs matched.

When he finally rolled off of me and lay on his back next to me, I didn’t have anything to say.

All I know is that it felt like he popped another cherry.  Not just the seeing the Valley cherry.  But one of trust.

And we laid there for a very long time.

“I think we need to reroute pedestrian traffic this way,” I said, sketching lightly with a pencil on the map, “that way we’ll avoid this impacted area.”  I gestured to the ground.

I stood with my crew in the hazy late afternoon sunshine of a July day at my meadow restoration site by the Wawona campground.  In a month, we’d not seen much change in the area, and I had some ideas on how to improve it.  I consulted my notes and flipped through the digital photos on the government camera, looking for ideas.

After a few weeks on the job, I realized something—I loved it.

I’d gotten used to the blisters and the bug bites.  Now I always packed extra Band-Aids, moleskin, and half of the first-aid kit at Rite Aid.  I’d learned to take foot care seriously.  I’d also learned how to manage how tired I got from hiking.  

And just as I’d thought, I loved being out in the wilderness.  I loved helping things grow.  Coaxing the delicate ecosystem of Yosemite into a more natural state.

In the past few weeks, I’d also found that my roommates were exceptionally helpful.  Engineer Ian had given me lessons on how to use a map and compass, and I found myself familiar with how to use maps well.  Landscape architect Matt helped me design better workarounds for the problem areas.  And Katie made everything more beautiful, helping me to draw maps to scale.  Yazmin was always good for a massage.

“Maggie.”

I turned around.  Court loped up, wearing his Smokey the Bear hat and ranger uniform.  He had to be the sexiest forest ranger ever, with the way his frame filled out his uniform shirt in his shoulders and biceps.  My eyes went to his heavy, dark belt and his narrow waist and hips.

He hadn’t let me alone, going out of his way to come up with almost-daily activities for us.

I loved every minute of it.

There was one thing I wanted to do, though, and still hadn’t.

“I’m taking you on your first backpacking trip.  Next day off.”

“Love the way you ask these things, Court.”

But really?  I was thrilled.  Overnight out in the woods sounded adventuresome and peaceful.

He grinned.  “I know what I want and I get it.”  He stepped forward and ran his finger down my cheek, but since we were both in uniform and surrounded by the crew, he didn’t do anything further.  Smiling, he whispered, “There’s a great loop up to see some lakes in the high country.  I want to see your little botany heart go wild.”

“The trees will change to lodgepole pine and red fir at higher elevation.  Do you think scarlet monkey flower will be blooming?”

“I do.”

“I can’t wait.”

Three days later, I found myself hiking up the switchbacks, carrying my new backpack—OMG trying it for real—thighs burning, too focused on my next step to ogle Court much, although I noticed how good he looked in a simple blue t-shirt and cargo shorts.  

Testing my fear of heights.  

“This is hard, Court.”

“You can do it.  Just take the next step.”

I clung to the side of the mountain, not wanting to look down to see the elevation gain, just focusing on the next step.  And somehow I made it, but not without getting pretty dizzy.

Once we climbed to the top of the mountain, the elevation flattened out and we could walk next to each other.  I pointed out wildflowers, and we stopped and took pictures of the pristine alpine scenery—white rocks, clear blue lakes, conifers.  When I first saw a marmot—a highcountry rodent the size of a cat—it startled me so much that I froze up and dropped the Cheez-It I was snacking on.  In a flash, Court picked it up to keep us from having accidentally fed a wild animal, and then kissed my temples.  “It’s just a marmot.  No big deal.”

I knew that there were bears and mountain lions and all sorts of other animals out there.  Intellectually, I knew that they were more scared of me than I was of them—at least that’s how the saying goes.  But the further we hiked from houses and cars and the more remote we walked, I realized that we really were alone, with just each other and whatever we brought with us to take care of ourselves.

That was a scary thought.

We stopped to have lunch on a wide, flat rock by one of the lakes.  I looked around us.  I was all sweaty from the hike, and the turquoise blue water of the lake looked refreshing, even though I knew it would be glacial.

The lake backed up against a rocky peak, with white granite boulders and shaggy lodgepole pine.  The water was so clear you could see the rocks at the bottom and the sky reflected in it.  I’d been warned about boiling water in the backcountry but it was so beautiful to look at, if not to drink.

“Wish I brought my bathing suit.”

He smiled, and it was his wicked smile—the one that made me want to drop to my knees in front of him, with the promise that he’d return the favor.  “We’re out in the middle of nowhere.  No one around.  We can just go in.”

“But it would suck to hike in wet clothes.”

He looked at me and burst out laughing.  “You’ve never been skinny dipping?”

I felt like a dork for not catching on sooner and shook my head rapidly.  I’d never had a chance to go skinny dipping.

“We’re doing it.”  His eyes on my body, tracing me from head to toe.

While I felt happy that he wanted me, I shook my head again.  “No, that’s crazy.”

“Dare you.”

“No!”  It was one thing to be all naked with Court in his house, where no one would disturb us.  But out here?  What if someone came walking down the trail?  There was nowhere to hide!  I’d have to streak from the shore.

“Why not?”

Problem was, I couldn’t think of a reason why not.  No one
was
out here.  We hadn’t seen anyone hiking all day after the first mile or so.

I took a deep breath and looked at him, sexy hiking man.  “Ohmigod.  Okay.  This is crazy.  And the water’s gonna be cold.  It can’t be warmer than the river.”

“It’s fucking cold,” he agreed, “so you know, don’t judge.”

My eyes widened when I realized he was talking about dick shrinkage.  “You have no problems in that department.”  And he gave me the most terrific eyebrow raise, like a “You know it.”  God.  This man.

“Count of three.”  My heart started racing.  I was really going to do this.  “One.  Two.”  He was grinning hard.  “Three!”

And we both started shucking off our clothing as fast as we could.  Boots kicked off and discarded on the decomposed granite shore of the lake.  Socks?  Off.  Shirt?  Stripped off.  Shorts, gone, and soon I was standing there in a sports bra and underwear, looking at him in his black boxer briefs.

He ran his hand through his beard, the colors of his tattoos popping in the sunlight, his torso rippling in the sun like the gentle lapping of the lake.  When he looked over to me, he raised an eyebrow.  “Goddamn woman, you are sexy.”

I looked down at my body.  I was just wearing black cotton undies and a jog bra, and I was sure that my hair stuck out everywhere.  “Even in a sports bra?”

“Fuck yes.”

No one had ever called me sexy before.  No one had ever looked at me with the lust he did when he ran his eyes over my body.  It was welcome.  To feel wanted that way, especially by him.

And then in a quick movement, he dropped his drawers—
yes
—and with a whoop, he went running into the lake, dick dangling, ass streaking in the sunshine, and splashed.

God, beautiful.  He was beautiful.
 

“Mag-gie!  Come on in!  It’s not that bad!”

Oh, fuck it.  Public nudity and cold water be damned.  It just too hot to care.

I threw my bra off over my head, slipped off my undies, and ran into the water, my ass jiggling, my breasts bouncing.

It
was
fucking cold.  But it felt
so
good.  I sunk down to shoulder height in the water, initially shrieking at the cold, but then I got used to it, rapidly.

Standing up in the middle of the shallow lake, I felt clean, cooled off, natural.

Best idea ever.

“It feels awesome once you get used to it,” I called to Court, who’d swam out to the middle of the lake, and now returned to shallower water.

“Most things do.”

He waded toward me in waist-high water, all muscular torso and tattoos.  His beard was designed for the woods.  He fit in.

Then he came right up to me, picked me up under my shoulders and knees, hugged me tightly to him, and with a drop, dunked both of us in the water.  Ker-splat!

“Court!” I spluttered, temporarily let go, but then he grabbed me by my waist and picked me up, his hands under my ass.  I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and held on.  My perky breasts pressed against his torso.  His nipples were hard from the cold.  I kissed him deeply, standing naked in the middle of the alpine Sierra lake.

“Let’s get out,” he muttered against my neck, and carried me until the water got shallow.  We climbed out and flopped on a large, windswept, flat rock, warm in the sun.

We both lay there for a moment on our backs, staring at the sky, feeling fresh and alive.