Patrick Murry - Sex In The Sticks

"Are they still back there?"

"Think so. I saw something moving down that ridge a few minutes ago. Looks like they might be gaining on us a little."

"Maybe l take the Big Horn cutoff – it's less than a mile up the trail. We'll see what happens after that."

Gina Bellardi did not join in this conversation between her two companions, though she listened closely enough. She could not decide whether Pam and Ellen wanted the boys behind them to catch up with them or not. She knew her own mind well enough: she had come into the national forest for two weeks of backpacking and mountaineering and she would have been perfectly happy if they had seen no boys at all during the entire trip. They had been on the trail for only two days and already both Pam and Ellen were acting suspiciously like a pair of horny spinsters.

"They'll probably turn off and go up to Big Horn," Pam said as they toiled along the rough trail. "That's where most of the hikers go."

"Hey, you remember that waterfall and pool about a half-mile beyond the cutoff?" Ellen asked. "I'm already thinking about that – when we get there I'm going to strip and stay in there for about an hour!"

"Yeah, I remember it," Pam replied. "And I'm up for that too. How about you, Gina? Ready for a dip? It'll be great after heaving and sweating for two days."

"I think that would be beautiful," Gina said, trying to put the boys out of her mind.

"Say, what's wrong with you?" Ellen asked, lagging back a moment to fall into step beside Gina. "You've been quiet as a mouse all day. Still shook up over that Willie?"

"No, I don't think so," Gina replied. "Or maybe it's that, I'm not really sure. I know that I've been having trouble all morning – this is a rough trail. And I'm carrying the tent today, don't forget."

They took turns carrying the tent which sheltered them at night. Although it was the lightest model available that would shelter three, its eight pounds made a considerable difference after a few hours on the trail. Actually, as Gina admitted to herself, she had been thinking about Willie, her ex-boyfriend. A tall, handsome youth of twenty, the very epitome of almost everything she had been taught to look for in a boyfriend, he had gone with her for three months and, at least for the first two of those months, had provided her with more happy moments than she had ever known before. As Ellen stepped out ahead, leaving her to herself, Gina's mind wandered back to her last date with Willie.

"Aw, come on, do it to me," Willie said, trying to press her face down onto his cock. "A little head won't hurt you!"

"I'm scared to do it!" she protested. "Isn't it enough that I let you… well, fuck me? Can't you be satisfied with that? Willie, I love you, really I do, but that… it just seems so awful!"

Even now the memory of those few times – six in all – that he had come over her, fitting that incomparably beautiful body of his between her thighs and guiding that tremendously long, hard prick into the lips of her pussy had the power to make her knees weak and her head dizzy. A tall, lithe brunette with a pair of firmly rising breasts that attracted the eye of nearly every man, Gina had a sultry, sensuous look which would not have been out of place on a Hollywood sex queen. More than one man had been attracted by her looks, only to be turned off by her fear of letting herself go: Gina's behavior, in striking contrast to her looks, would have done credit to a New England spinster of eighty.

It had required every one of Willie's many talents to get her into bed with him, and even then she submitted only after she had become almost delirious with desire. She loved him too much to forbid him the caresses which fired her body with desire and, once she had reached that state, she could not prevent him from possessing her completely. In spite of her ardent response – and once she had gotten his prick inside her body the fervent way in which she had snapped her hips up and down had surprised even Willie – she never lost control of herself to the extent that she would engage in some of the practices he most wanted. In particular, he wanted her to take his prick in her mouth and this she would not do under any circumstances. He wanted her to talk about her desires, using the frankest, bawdiest language – she knew all the words but believed that "a lady" did not use such language – but she would do so only after considerable coaxing and when her body was trembling with desire.

"Come on, give it a suck," Willie said on that last night. "Hell, it isn't so much. Christ, even Sharon gives blowjobs!"

"Sharon?" Gina asked, slowly realizing that Sharon had lived in the city for only a month. "How do you know that about Sharon?"

Willie's evasive answer had aroused her curiosity further and, in the course of a discussion which had finally turned into an argument, he admitted that he had visited the girl in her apartment several times. He attempted to justify this by pointing out that the girl had no compunctions about servicing his desires in whatever way he chose, a justification which Gina saw as more of a condemnation of them both. The evening had ended with her getting out of Willie's bed, tearful and reproachful, and walking home by herself. Each time she relived that terrible evening she asked herself if she could possibly have done anything differently.

How could you possibly have done that to him? she asked herself as she trudged along behind Ellen and Pam. Ugghh! To behave like a common whore? If he wanted you to do that then he surely wasn't the man you thought he was! No, Gina, you did exactly right!

Despite the regularity with which she told herself that she had been right in refusing to go down on Willie, there were several times when she could not help wondering if perhaps she had been wrong. Several of her best friends, she knew, frequently made love in that way and as far as she could tell they were not adversely affected in any other way. Both Ellen and Pam openly vowed that there was little better than "a mouthful of hot cock," as Ellen so crudely put it, and they were as loyal as anyone she knew.

It would be a nice way of showing a guy that you really cared for him, she thought, shifting her pack-straps onto a new part of her shoulders. And maybe the stuff wouldn't taste so bad when he shot off. Remember that time you… mmmm!

Her mind, seemingly determined to find new ways to bedevil her with doubt, wandered back to an evening when she had gone to the bathroom immediately after experiencing a delirious, bone-melting climax with Willie. As she had sat upon the toilet stool, feeling the thick, creamy cum gush from her well-exercised slit, she had suddenly reached between her thighs and placed a finger in that opening. Upon removing it, now thickly coated with the warm, fluid, she had cautiously sniffed of it. The scent had fired her desires quickly, sending a spasm of delight over her body, and she had popped the finger into her mouth. The salty but utterly intoxicating taste had caused her head to reel with delight. Gina had never mentioned this experiment to anyone, lest they think she had become a sluttish, depraved creature and she often berated herself for having succumbed to the temptation.

No, that won't do, she. told herself. Gina, you've got to stop thinking about those things! You can't go on this way!

Again tugging impatiently at her pack straps, she quickened her pace to shorten the distance between herself and her friends. They passed the Big Horn cutoff, a broader trail leading up to one of the highest peaks in the entire national forest. They were aiming for Sheep Pen Meadows, a remote and lovely valley where they intended to spend three days before continuing their hike.