Up, Down and Away!

Societal norms told me to wary, prudence reinforced that, the Sisterhood back in what masqueraded for civilization these days was screaming for me to run. For some reason however I felt quite safe with Duncan. Don't ask me why, but I was becoming more relaxed by the moment.

The creek which had in its glory days formed the valley was now only a few feet across, but here and there it widened to several yards across. In one place, it had formed a pool and it was to this that Duncan led me.

Not pausing when we reached the bank, he simply walked out into the water, stopping in the middle. The water came to his upper thighs, leaving his manhood in the sunlit air.

Not to be outdone, I followed. I had been bracing myself of the water of an icy mountain rill, but the crystal-clear pool was surprisingly warm.

I stopped just short of Duncan, who was gazing up at the cliff faces surrounding us.

It was a hidden Eden. No doubt the original native dwellers in this area had known of it, but it was certainly not shown on the topographical maps I had consulted. OK, the maps I'd brushed over, truth be known; it was probably marked. If I'd actually studied them, I wouldn't have almost fallen, yes?

But I doubted anybody else has actually been down here recently -- aside from Duncan, of course. Would the two rangers have taken a break by that sunburnt rock if they'd known of this little paradise?

I was truly impressed with the place, its tranquility and -- yeah -- its privacy. Duncan had even hung up a mesh hammock off to one side.

"Thank you, Duncan," I said, softly. "This is wonderful."

He turned to me, smiling. "You're most welcome, Kate. After all, it's not every day that I get a beautiful lady just drop in."

With that, he slid down under the water. A moment later, he stood back up, brushing water out of his hair and eyes.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "I promised coffee -- how do you take yours?"

"Black, please."

With that, he was gone, returning a few minutes later with two tin mugs.

It was hot and I almost burned my lips, but it was good coffee and I was grateful. We sat in silence for a few minutes on a log by the creek before he spoke.

"So?"

I avoided his eyes. I knew what he meant. And at this stage of the game I quiet literally had very little to hide.

"So?" I countered, hoping he would let it all just drop. Fat chance.

"So, are you going to tell me why your clothes dropped in five minutes before you did, attached to a parachute?"

I really didn't want to get pulled into that. Getting caught had always been a risk, part of the excitement, but now that it was here, I just wanted to pretend it had never happened.

Right. And I was skinny-dipping with a total stranger...

"Well, what were you doing out here dressed like that?" I asked, hoping to deflect the question.

It didn't work.

"Officially, I'm probably not here at all," he smiled. "But if pressed, I'm writing a novel and needed some quiet space. If pressed really hard, I might admit to some informal, unofficial, hobby prospecting."

"You already said that, Mr. Sandals."

"Well, being the only person around," he said, "I can indulge my own... inclinations about clothes." His voice was soft -- and got softer. "Like you, apparently."

That did it. I found myself blushing like crazy.

"Anyway," he continued, his voice gentle, "I watched what seemed to be a weather balloon go over a few minutes before the parachute landed. I'm guessing that you like watching your clothes drift away from you."

Busted, in detail.

"Two plus two, Katie..." he said.

I could have lived with that, but then he made the mistake of adding, "And how many women have a balloon-launched vibrator?"

That did it.

My Irish temper got the best of me again. I stood up, my face crimson. "You didn't have to say that, asshole. I'm leaving." I turned around and tried to stomp away. Starkers didn't leave me much dignity, but I tried.

"Kate," he called from out of sight.

I stopped and turned. "What?"

"Dinner is served nightly at seven, with cocktails at six. We generally don't dress up." With that, I heard a splash as he dove back into the creek.

God damn the man! Not only had he figured out precisely what I'd been doing, but he hadn't even had the decency to be a proper perv. It was his nonchalance that pissed me off the most.

I stamped my foot in fury, which only set my boobs bouncing again. The only saving grace there was that he wasn't there to see them quiver.

I waited until I was out of the valley before I got dressed.

+

I was, let's face it, a mess by the time I'd hiked back to my Jeep.

I was embarrassed -- no, mortified. I might have got away with anything, might have even had a pleasant time - except for the presence of Little Bob.

And I was seriously pissed at Duncan. Yes, I'd got myself into that mess and no doubt it had been hilarious from his point of view, but how dare that arrogant son of a bitch laugh at me so casually?

I knew I wasn't thinking straight. In spite of my very real anger, I realized that I was both intellectually intrigued by him and physically attracted at a level my supposedly-sophisticated superengineergal self was having a hard time admitting to. He was very handsome.

There was another thing. Aside from the most understandable -- and, let's be honest, reciprocated - ogling, he hadn't made the slightest move towards me.

And, while, I knew I would have been offended if he had done something, his behaving like a gentleman had pissed me off as much as anything. How dare he not at least drool a little over the helpless nude woman so unexpectedly presented?

I hadn't felt this mixed up since I'd been 14 years old.

Eventually, anger won the day and, tossing everything into the back seat, I drove back to the city.

+

I stewed about it for the rest of the week.

Even though I'd done nothing wrong, much less illegal, I still was very gun-shy about my exhibitionism becoming public knowledge.

I'd had such a good thing going! And now that man had to come along and mess it all up.

But, hard as it was for me to admit, I could intellectually acknowledge that Duncan hadn't done anything wrong either. I knew that I would have freaked had he actually tried to take advantage of my nudity. If you could overlook his attire -- or lack of it, rather -- he'd been a perfect gentleman. And why shouldn't he go bare in such an isolated spot? It had been me who invaded his space, not the other way around.

And he'd been as charming as he was handsome. That, in my experience, was a rare mix.

And there was nothing to stop me from going somewhere else for my balloon gigs.

On the other hand, there was nothing to stop me from going back, either. Nothing except my own pride and insecurities.

I flipped. I flopped. And again.

And decided.

Changed my mind.

And went back to the original decision. I was doing nothing wrong. I was enjoying myself.

I would continue.

.

The weather forecast being favorable, I packed the Jeep on Thursday night, as usual. This time I added a couple of other things, almost on spec. It's not just Boy Scouts who know the value of being prepared.

I was in my camping spot at 10:05 and, this time, slept very well.

I woke up to fog -- rare but not entirely unheard of here. Frustrated, I considered launching blind, so to speak, but quickly returned to sanity. Around about 9:30, it started to burn off. I was starting to lay out my launch assembly when the wind came up.

Way up.

Darn it -- this wasn't on the weather forecast!

The winds were high enough that my balloon would have blown itself to pieces before I could have launched it - and who knows what would have happened to it even if I could have released it. And, even if everything went well, there was a really good chance that, once on the ground, the parachute would have become a sail, dragging my clothes off past the horizon faster than I could run after it.

Fuming, I stowed the kit.

Sitting in the Jeep, I tried to find some sort of forecast on the radio. I could find one very faint station but it faded out to mush before a weather report came on. I cursed my persistent refusal to upgrade the Jeep's radio, cursed again when I confirmed my phone had no coverage.

Fine, then. Option One - I could sit here all day in hopes of the weather improving. I was no meteorologist, but it didn't look all that likely.

Or I could admit defeat and just go home. Not a happy choice.

Or I could be a different kind of daring and take Duncan up on his offer. It'd been a week since he asked, but it wasn't like he'd have to arrange a caterer.

I was still feeling seriously annoyed at him, but at the same time knew that that was completely unreasonable. Objectively, it must have been really funny from his point of view.

More flipping. More flopping. I finally pushed the irrational anger away.

Door Number Three, please.

I dug out the two additions to my packing list.

One was a bottle of red wine, a nice California vintage. I put that on the front seat.

The other was a chunky necklace. Rounded and polished olive-size stones, some turquoise and some soft-brown, were separated by gold links and discs. I liked it and thought the colors looked good against my skin, especially with my recent all-over tan.

I put it on, took off my blouse and looked at myself in the rear-view mirror. The necklace fit in with the way I had originally imagined this whole adventure -- not frilly, girly and delicate, but solid, colorful and confident.

My shoulders sagged. Confident? Really?

I was feeling anything but confident. Kathrine had come out here to spend some time getting kinky on a solo basis. Now she was getting ready to drop in on a strange man wearing just sandals, sunscreen and a necklace.

I looked at my image in the mirror, pulled my shoulders back, licked my lips and smiled. Confidence, kid, I told myself. You can do this. It's just dinner.

My eyes strayed down to my bare boobs.

Just dinner - right. Who was I trying to kid?

I started to put the blouse back on, stopped, took it off again. Looking in the side mirror, I put my hands under them, lifted the Girls. I turned this way and that, inspecting their reflection. Deep breath. I took off my shorts and panties, rolled them into a ball with my blouse and tossed the lot onto the front seat of the Jeep.

I touched up my minimal makeup, brushed my hair. I again examined myself in the mirror. Guess who's coming for dinner, Duncan?

I took another deep breath, sat down behind the steering wheel.

And immediately bounced out -- the damned seat was hot!

I reached across, unrolled my clothes and laid them on the seat. With some caution, I sat down and found it was bearable.

I sat there for a moment. Was this what I really wanted to do?

Another deep breath and I decided to walk.

Exhibitionism? I'll show you exhibitionism, Duncan!

Leaving my clothes in the car, I started hiking the mile or so to Duncan's valley. I figured I needed the exercise to deal with my indecision and it was a chance, sort of, to recreate the experience the winds had denied me. I kept my eyes open for any approaching vehicles, ready to dive into a nearby gully if necessary. It wasn't.

When I got there, I stepped over the rim, not on the almost-sheer spot where I'd made my first entry, but further to the south, onto the steep but safe path he'd shown me a week ago.

On reflection, after a few steps, I kicked off my sandals. Leaving them by the trail, I continued my descent dressed in nothing my necklace. There'd been no shoes in Eden.

Strangely, there seemed to be nobody around. Duncan's trailer was there, but his truck was gone.

Out prospecting?

Not wanting to stay, I left the wine on his table, holding down a note scrawled on a scrap of paper: I accept your kind invitation. See you tonight. K

With that, I headed back to my camp in hopes of the wind dying. It didn't and, as 3:30 drew near, I gave up. Not every day can be a balloon day.

Instead, I had a nap in my tent and then took a sponge bath. Not enough, but better than nothing.

I arrived back at Duncan's valley just before 6:00. This time, as my head came over the rim, I could see his pick-up.

I could feel a certain, shall we say, tension in my body. This wasn't an accidental encounter; this was a deliberate nude visitation.

What if he was dressed? I hadn't thought of that.

What if he had other company? I almost turned back at that thought.

Pausing on the trail, I heard his voice from below, under the trees.

"Kate? Come on down!"

Another deep breath and down I went. The necklace bounced just a little at each step.

And there he was, a smile on his face and a tin cup of what I presumed was wine in his hand. Well, I could hardly expect crystal out here, could I?

"Glad you could make it, Kate! Where've you been all week?"

I tried to smile back. "Office drudgery. Money. Rent. Bleh."

I tried to seem calm, but I was pretty nervous inside. Actually, I was more flustered that I'd care to admit. While I'd been among hundreds of other naked cyclists for Nude Day bike rides, I'd never deliberately been individually nude in front of anybody but a lover -- and Duncan wasn't one.

Yet.

Yet. Was I hoping? Merely curious? Afraid?

I had a sudden and very graphic mental image of him on top of me, the hair on his chest against my nipples, his length deep inside me.

The image was exciting, but also deeply disturbing. Frankly, I didn't know what I should be feeling. Or doing.

Yet here I was, dressed only in a necklace, with a man dressed in one necklace less than that.

And I was enjoying myself. I was enjoying the feelings this weird situation was creating. Sexual excitement, yes, a little. A bit of anticipation, a spinoff of my original exhibitionistic plans? Maybe. But pride, too. Nudity was, I knew, my most natural state. And Duncan's admiring glances confirmed I could be proud of myself like this.

I took the cup from him, smiled and took a sip.

"Thanks."

"It was a pleasant surprise when I got back from rock-hunting," he smiled. "I'd kind of given up hope."

"Look, Duncan, I want to apologize."

He held his hand up in a dismissive gesture. "Nope. Never happened. I pushed some buttons. Even-Stephen at worst."

"But..."

"Nope. Let's drop it, OK?"

I closed my eyes, nodded briefly. Opening them again, I tried to change the conversation to something less charged.

"Is the pool still open?" I asked. "It's been a long day and I could do with a rinse. Or, if the offer of dinner is still open, do you need a hand with anything?"

"No need," he said, then smiled. "but it's been a while since I've been shopping and you sort of caught me by surprise. Hope you're up for burgers and three-bean salad."

"Sounds fine," I assured him. "Are you sure I can't help?"

He shook his head and pointed down the trail. "Enjoy your soak."

With that, he turned and headed for the table, where I could see a propane stove already set up. I took a moment to again admire his buns as he walked and felt the beginnings of a growing hunger deep within me.

After a day of aggravation, the water was divine, not only for a chance to get clean, but also for a chance to relax. Sitting on the bottom, submerged up to my neck and leaning back against a convenient rock with my hair in a bun to keep it dry, I could feel the frustration draining away. I closed my eyes and simply floated in rippling relaxation.

I hadn't thought I was actually sleeping, but when I opened my eyes a moment later, it was to see him sitting on the other side of the pool.

"This place has that effect on me, too," he said with a gentle smile.

I looked at the sun. Oh, no! I really had fallen asleep - great guest behaviour.

"I'm sorry," I stammered again. "It's been a hard day and..."

He got up, waded across -- all of three steps. His finger came out and touched my lips, silencing my apology. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, but under the circumstances, a perfectly reasonable one.

"You were tired and this place is... kind of magical," he smiled. He looked down at my mug on a rock beside me. "At least you didn't spill your drink."

I got up and noticed his eyes dip down to my boobs. I could hardly be offended. His package had been at eye-level to me and I hadn't been not looking, if you follow my drift.

"I decided to let you sleep," he said. "Hope you don't mind, but I was enjoying the view."

Under other circumstances, his remark would have been really rude, bordering on creepy. Here, it seemed perfectly reasonable. And I was the exhibitionist, right?

In for a penny, in for a pound, Gran used to say. I smiled, arched my back a little to emphasize the Twins. His eyes automatically flicked down at the movement.

I decided to go for broke. I turned my head just slightly so that I was looking at his groin, maybe all of 18 inches in front of my face.

"Why would I mind?" I asked quietly. I glanced up at his face before deliberately moving my gaze back to his package. "Provided you don't mind, that is."

He gave a low chortle and, to my amazement, his penis gave a small twitch and grew, just a little.

Grinning, I looked back at his face. "I'll take that as an OK, yes?"

His chortle became a belly laugh, deep, rolling and funny in itself. My uncle had had a laugh like that. I missed it and was delighted to hear it here.

The two of us began laughing our heads off.

+

Dinner was simple, but pleasant. Under the circumstances, pretences were hardly possible. Duncan was agreeable company and entirely masculine, which was a pleasant change from some I had been forced to mix with. He had good manners, a wicked sense of humor and was totally able to laugh at himself.

We wound up sitting side by side and I was very aware of his presence. As we were finishing our meal, he turned to me, his head bending down. I thought for a moment that he was staring at the Girls, but his gaze was a bit higher.

"Very nice," he remarked, looking at the necklace. He stretched out his hand, stopped before touching it. "May I?" he asked, his eyes on mine.

I nodded.

"Turquoise and agate," he said, the beads slipping one by one through his fingers.

"Agate? Brown agate?"

"Trust me on that one," he smiled. He looked closer, rolled a bead under his finger. The skin over my throat tingled under his fingers. "Probably Montana," he mused.

"How can you tell?"

He looked up at me, smiled. "I really am a geologist," he said, "even if most of my time here is spent writing."

He let the necklace fall. My skin still tingled where his fingers had brushed along it.

+

As the sun sank lower, he brought a pair of old-fashioned kerosene lanterns down to the pool, hanging them in the trees. We sat silently, our feet in the water. It slowly got cooler but the evening was very pleasant.

It was a very odd experience. Like I said, I was no blushing virgin, but this was unlike anything I'd ever been through. I'd been buck-naked for hours, alone with a man I barely knew. Thinking back, any boy I'd ever known would have made some sort of pass by now. Yet Duncan had done nothing but look.

Could it be that this beautiful man was gay? I could hear generations of female ancestors protest such a loss to womanhood, but reconsidered when I saw the looks he was giving my figure and remembered that little twitch. No, maybe bi, but definitely not entirely on the other team.

And we had been like this for hours. I'd been nude this long a lot in my own house or with lovers long-past, but never like this. It felt relaxing, fulfilling even. Maybe even exciting? Yes, absolutely. The usual physical signs of arousal weren't there. My nipples were normal, I wasn't feeling any excitement in my ladybits, my pulse was pretty normal. Yet I was increasingly becoming mentally turned on by Duncan. Call it what you will, I knew against my better judgement that if he made a pass, I wouldn't object.