Hiking Surprise

Note: I've spent years backpacking and accumulated lots of great memories. Now that I'm in my fifties, I'm finally jotting them down as best as I remember. If you're looking for sex-crazed stories, this isn't one of them. But it was a real experience I still find arousing to this day. Let me know if you'd like to hear more. —Lars

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"I sure will miss hearing of your weekend adventures on Mondays," said Scott as he pulled up to the trailhead.

I reassured him that I'd be back in six months and would look forward to sharing my stories. Having worked together on a tight-knit advertising team for three years, he'd come to enjoy my Monday stories of outings ranging from trips hiking and mountain biking to shooting the rapids on Class IV rapids in nearby Tennessee.

Scott and I had both recently been promoted - he was in sales and I was now an Associate Creative Director (a fancy title that made twenty-somethings like me feel more important than we really were.) Our Atlanta firm was a good place to work, I had a good income and could get to the great outdoors easily but making a living helping sell products people don't really need had left me feeling empty. My weekend escapes were just no longer enough so I'd saved up money to buy the hiking gear I needed and I had made myself useful enough to the firm that they granted my request for a leave of absence and promised my job would be waiting for me when I returned.

It was hard to believe that five months had now passed since Scott dropped me off at the base of Springer Mountain, Georgia, the terminus of the Appalachian Trail. I'd since amassed stories for a lifetime of Mondays: hunkering down through freak April blizzards, rescuing a day hiker who'd broken her leg, having a rattlesnake strike at my ankle only to get a mouthful of leather boot. On top of the physical adventures, I had stories of the generous and fun people I'd gotten to know in the 2000+ miles I'd hiked.

Hiking solo was far from lonely. Originally I was a bit concerned about getting bored or missing friends, but I found that solitude opened me up to meet all kinds of people. I'm not talking about anything romantic — I didn't set out looking for a relationship like a few of the men and women I met. And I didn't find romance either-- this is not a story of sex-filled nights in my tent (though I did have a no-strings-attached fling with a British woman who came to the US for a week in the mountains.)

The memorable relationships I'm talking about came from the bonds of hiking with like-minded people for days or weeks through extremes of heat, rain, fatigue and hunger. One of these developed halfway through my journey. I got to know a middle-aged engineer from Detroit named Jeff. We'd met hiking in the rocky mountains of Pennsylvania and pitched our tents together at the base of a particularly steep descent. We made small talk as we cooked dinner and discovered a mutual love of electric guitar and bikepacking. While 20 years my senior, we clicked as if we were brothers. We hiked on and off together through New York and Connecticut but hadn't seen each other since he'd taken a day off to nurse a sore ankle.

I was happily surprised to reconnect with him in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I loved the views and decided to take a day off myself not because of any injury, but just to rest and enjoy the quiet. Jeff saw my tent off the trail at the end of the day and hollered out a greeting. Knowing how steep the next day's trail would be, he decided to pitch his tent so we could head out at dawn together the next day before it got hot. It turned out to be a great idea because the trail was steep, rocky and relentless. By noon, the day's highest peak was in sight and seemed to get nearer with every steep step, yet we knew it was still a good hour away. We were getting hungry and our knees needed a break. We spotted a flat rock outcrop a few hundred yards off the trail that like a great lunch spot—mostly level and with a great view of the valley below. Making our way through the underbrush toward the outcrop, we heard a faint moaning. Very sexual moaning. Jeff and I looked at each other with raised brows. In our long talks that helped the miles pass, we had discussed our sex lives and he had confided that he loved vocal women. As we got closer and the moans got increasingly louder, I could see how excited he was.

We had thought we were alone on the trail since we hadn't seen anyone in days and the overgrown trail was a sign that not many people came this way. Clearly someone else had come here thinking the same and was enjoying what they thought was their total privacy outdoors.

Jeff and I quietly made our way around a bend in the trail to get closer to the sound and what a sight there was! A guy in his mid forties had his very fit wife sitting up high on a ledge of the outcrop with her hiking shorts resting on her ankles. He stood below and ate her out. His cock stuck proudly out his fly as he stroked himself.

I wish I could say we joined in and had an amazing fourway, but that's not the case. There was no hiding for us - the woman spotted us and hurriedly pulled on her shorts, deathly embarrassed. The man wrestled his stiff cock back in his shorts. We kept walking to give them privacy and to not further call attention to their situation, but it was clear we'd killed their mood. Now my penis was swollen from the unexpected voyeurism. If I had been hiking alone, I would have found a secluded spot to jack off but we just made our way to a different spot and got out our lunches.

Jeff and I got a real laugh out of it and talked about how lucky that guy was to have a woman who could hike up such a tough trail and wondered if he was reciprocating for an earlier blowjob. I joked that I'd be busting a nut big time in my tent that night. Well, I wasn't the only one thinking that. That night Jeff pitched his tent less than 20 feet from mine on the nearby flat terrain. I gave him total shit the next morning because he forgot he had his reading light on in his tent while he too jerked off, casting a crisp silhouette on the side of his tent giving me the second show of the day.

I look back on it now and think, Damn, what a great couple. Good for them. And it was quite the bonding experience with Jeff. This was just one of many experiences I looked forward to sharing with Scott when I got back to Atlanta.