Heather in the Wilderness

Author's Note: Hello my friends. It's been a while since I've posted here. No excuses, I just haven't had anything interesting to write. Until, while I was driving in my job as a truck driver, the image of a female hiker finding two guys out in the middle of nowhere popped into my mind. I couldn't get it out of my head. It took root and filled my hours of driving. This is how my stories begin. Then a couple of key scenes present themselves. In this story, those scenes, were Duane and Heather's meeting, the poker game, Duane and Heather's conversation when Heather is in her tent, and the dance. Then the story builds itself from there, starts filling out. A whole scene will form in my mind and I think, Man, this is going to be a blast to write! And so it goes. By the time I actually write anything the broad story is already formed in my mind. I'll add some stuff as the situations dictate, but what you read has been floating around in my head as a broad story for a long time.

Thing is, they tend to get long. I worry that people will pass them by because the length intimidates them. I like a good stroke story as much as the next guy. I just can't write them. If, at the end of one of my stories, someone sits back and thinks, I could see that happening, while using a towel to clean cum off their hand, my greatest hope is fulfilled. I like building the world. Placing the rocks, giving characters backgrounds. Setting a logical path from A to B to C. For those of you who take the entire journey, thank you so much, I appreciate it more than you will ever know. For those of you looking for a stroke story, the poker game starts about a third of the way in. Heather gets dealt the three aces that are the beginning of her downfall, from a certain point of view, just before the halfway mark.

Thinking back on my stories, a lot of my heroines are redheads. What can I say, I love redheads. I've married two of them over the years. My favorite character on TV right now is Donna on Suits. That is definitely a package I'd love to unwrap. And speaking of heroines, a lot of my stories are written from their perspective. I find it challenging. Ladies, I'd like to know if I'm even close to getting it right.

Finally, my stories end with either To be continued or Endsit. This one ends with Endsit? It could easily be a stand alone story but I do have a thought for a part two. Whether it gets written or not will depend on the response this story gets. Could be a part three too, I suppose, if I can figure out a way to introduce another woman to the mix that makes sense. But only if it makes sense. Let me know if I succeeded with this part, will you?

Endsthis

Heather got her first look at the lake as she rounded a boulder and started down a mildly steep incline toward the shore. This wasn't her first trip to this lake; in fact it was her third this year. A life long hiker, she had been introduced to this lake by her family and she had always loved it. It wasn't the size or the swimming; there were larger closer to home and it was fed by streams that came off of the glaciers shrouding the surrounding mountains so it was much too cold on any but the hottest summer days. And even then, only for the briefest periods. And this was nowhere near the height of summer. This was, in fact, mid October and the leaves were just reaching their most vibrant colors.

She had made this trip three times this year, her destination the same each time. A secluded cove on the other side of a point that she could just see to her left. Her father had taught her two things about hiking that had stayed with her for her entire life. First, buy a piece of shit car to leave at the trail head (leave nothing in it, including anything with a name and address on it like the registration and insurance card, and leave it unlocked -- a kill switch is a good piece of insurance) and second, a love of photography. On a trip up here last year, she had decided that she would pick a spot with a spectacular view and capture the four seasons from that vantage point. She had started in spring and wasn't looking forward to winter, but was sure she could handle it.

She wasn't even sure the lake had a name. Her father had always called it Allison's Lake after her mother. When she had died ten years ago, she and her father had made this hike to spread her ashes in the water of the cove. It was the last time her father had made this journey and he had joined her mother a year later. His ashes shared the lake with Allison's on the water. At some point, Heather had decided that this project would be a tribute to them.

The other thing that this lake had going for it was that the trail head was an arduous seventeen miles to her rear. Only the most ardent and hale of hikers would even attempt it. It wasn't a day hike, by any means, and not even a fire road reached its shore. Though, she supposed, if there was ever a problem one would be cut. No, the only way there was a seventeen mile trail, over ridges, with a pack on your back. She rarely saw anyone on her trips out here.

The only drawback was the cowbell tied to her pack that clanked every time she took a step. It was particularly loud trudging down a hill as she was doing now. It was cheap insurance, like the kill switch in her car.

She took her time going down the hill. It was important that she get to the bottom, but hurrying might aggravate the hamstring in her right leg that had begun to tighten a couple of miles ago. She had already seen the fallen log she was going to use to try to stretch it back into shape. A pulled hammy out here would be a true nightmare.

At the shore, she shrugged off her pack and stood it up against the log. She planted her left foot and lifted her right to the top of the log which put that foot above her waist. Her legs were long and toned, naked from the tops of her boots to where they disappeared beneath her cutoff jeans. Those jeans were filled by shapely, firm ass cheeks that clenched as she bent at the waist, reaching for the boot at the end of her ramrod straight leg. She wore a tank-top under a flannel shirt tied in the front. Her tits weren't huge, but still big enough to embrace her athletic leg as she pulled herself down to where she could kiss her knee. This was something she did just to emphasize the point that she was as far as she could go and she held it. And held it some more. She held it until she felt the tightness begin to release. For balance, she switched feet, making her bad leg the anchor, which had its own benefits. She whipped her fiery red hair away from her heart shaped face so it wouldn't get between her full lips. Time for a ponytail or lop it off, she thought.

Next, she lifted herself onto the log and spread her legs as wide as they would go, which for her meant that if a two by four were placed against her heels, there would be no space between her body and the lumber, save for the spaces created by the curves of her muscles. She watched chop on the water respond to a passing breeze as she leaned to the right and held it. Then to the left where she saw the barren point of land that jutted out into the lake. That point would be on her right at camp. It had a slight curve at its end that gave her a perfect vantage for her pictures, both out to the lake and in toward the shore.

Finally, she climbed down and placed her feet together. She bent at the waist and folded her five-foot nine and a half-inch frame in half, hugging her knees, holding it until she felt the tightness evaporate.

"Ain't no way I could do any of that," came a male voice from behind her.

Heather stood and spun in surprise to see a tall man (maybe six-three, six-four) and maybe a little older than her own twenty-nine years, with dark hair and what appeared to be a nice build standing just her side of the trees on the path she was about to take, "Jesus you scared me," she exclaimed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he replied.

She let her gaze fall to the bulge at his crotch and said sharply, "I can see that."

The stranger's face turned a deep shade of red, which Heather found endearing for some reason, and he shrugged, "Heard you coming and I got curious. What's with the cowbell?"

"Bears," Heather replied with a hand on her hip. "They generally go the other way if they hear you coming."

"My buddy and me just talk loud," he said.

"Your buddy," Heather said, looking for another stranger.

The one she had stepped forward into the clearing, "Yeah, he and I come up here every year for fishing. He's back at camp. I wanted to check out some reeds I saw down this way." He held up a hook with four trout on it and his pole. "It's a good spot. Just getting ready to head back when I heard you."

"And you thought you'd check me out."

"Hadn't heard a cowbell out here before and, like I said," he shrugged again, "I was curious. Good idea actually, the bell. I'll have to remember that if I'm ever out here alone. Which way you headed?"

She hadn't told him she was alone but she supposed it was obvious. Damn. "Past you there. I have a couple more miles to go."

"I'll walk with you, if you don't mind, and peel off when I'm near camp" he said. "What were you doing anyway?"

Heather put her pack back on and walked up to him. She held out her hand, "I'm Heather."

"I'm Duane," he said, shaking her hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him then looked at the trail disappearing into the trees, "If you were me, Duane, would you go walking in the woods with you?" She had noticed that his fish were already cleaned, which meant that he had at least a knife on him.

Duane laughed, "That is probably the nicest way anyone has ever asked me if I was crazy." He shrugged for a third time. "Jake and I hiked the better part of twenty miles just to get a fishing line wet. Some folks might say that's not entirely sane. But yeah, you're okay with me."

Heather studied him for a moment then nodded her head decisively before starting off down the trail, "I was stretching a hammy that was starting to be a problem." Duane caught up to her. "There's a better spot for fish about five miles on. There's a stream that comes into the lake. I think the trout spawn there, or maybe they just like the cold, I don't know."

Heather dug a scrunchy out of her cutoffs, doubled it, and pulled her hair through into a ponytail. "That was a little creepy back there, you know."

Duane thought for a beat and said, "What was?"

"Watching me like that," Heather said, "like a stalker."

"Well, I wasn't hiding behind a tree," Duane countered. "I was out in the open the whole time. You could have turned around at any time and seen me."

"Still."

"Hey," he continued, "I came upon a drop-dead gorgeous woman out in the middle of nowhere doing stretching exercises against a backdrop of the lake, with the whole thing perfectly framed by snow capped mountains. It was as beautiful as you are. And besides, I'm a guy. I'm gonna look. No apologies."

"Hmpf," Heather scoffed, "my hips are too wide."

"Sorry?" As with many beautiful women, Heather didn't see herself as that way, focusing on perceived flaws. "To be beautiful. My hips are too wide."

Duane let himself fall back half a step and checked out her caboose. "No. They're not."

"Oh stop," Heather said, "I've seen smaller asses on aircraft carriers."

Duane got in front of her, turned and held up his hands, "Okay, hold up." Heather stopped with an arched eyebrow. Duane continued, "Back in the real world, Jake and I are chiropractors, we share a practice. Okay, nothing weird, but I'm gonna touch you a little bit. I just want to check something" Heather rolled her eyes at what she saw as a cheap ploy, but she was curious enough about where this was going not to stop him.

First, he gently pinched the flesh just above her shorts. Then, with one hand on each of her hips, his finger tips traced her curves, stopping and pressing here and there before moving on. Finally he stepped back and said, "Okay, your hips are only a couple of inches wider than your waist on each side. You have minimal subcutaneous fat and -- "

Another arched eyebrow, "So I'm fat too?"

Duane held up a finger, "Not what I said. You have just enough to soften your -- edges." He took her hand and directed the fingers to a particular spot. "You feel that? That's bone. You could diet yourself silly and there's not a damn thing you could do about it. They'd never get any narrower without major surgery. But it's alright because they really work on you."

"But I'm fat."

It was Duane's turn to roll his eyes, "Not at all. You need a certain amount of -- well, I won't use the word again since it seems to be a hot-button for you. But if you don't have it, your body will begin to eat your muscles. And then no more hiking." He shrugged again, "All it means is that if you decide to have babies, it won't ruin your body."

Heather's eyes narrowed, "We should stop talking now," and she started off again.

Duane hurried to catch up, "Oh, get over it, Heather and just accept the fact that for ninety-nine point nine percent of the straight guys on this planet, you qualify as smokin' hot."

"Says the guy who comes up here once a year with his buddy to fish," she said with finger quotes around "buddy" and "fish".

"And maybe a lot of women too," Duane added.

"Will the noise never stop," she said throwing up her hands. But secretly, she was sort of enjoying the banter. She'd set out from the trail-head at seven-thirty, and now it was approaching four in the afternoon. She was tired and the sparring was keeping her brain engaged.

They kept it up as they walked. They passed several spur trails, but he didn't peel off to any of them. They all had decent, but not great campsites Heather knew from all of her years coming up here. She supposed he was closer to the stream she had talked about. Each time they approached one, she'd hang back so he could make the turn and surreptitiously use the opportunity to check him out. Fair is fair, after all. Not a bad ass, all things considered, and what appeared to be solid legs.

She took her turn when she got to it, expecting Duane to continue on. She turned with a wave, "See ya, Duane. Maybe we'll run into one another again."

Duane stopped, "Uh oh."

Heather stopped too, "What?"

"You're not gonna like it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, looked down the trail and back at him as the realization dawned, "Seriously?!"

Duane stepped onto the trail and passed her, "What can I say? You know it's the best spot on the lake. You can share if you like."

The path was only wide enough to walk single file so she fell in behind him, "Okay, I'm not pissed, but I am officially perturbed."

Duane kept walking, "Why?"

"Why? I come up here for seclusion and to take pictures. Now I have to share my space with you and Jethro."

"Jake," Duane corrected.

"Whatever," Heather waved it off, "it's not an ideal situation."

They broke through the trees and Heather stopped, "Okay, now I'm officially impressed." The camp laid out before her could just as easily been described as a homestead as a camp. The tent was canvass and the size of a small cabin. A folding gazebo had a table and chairs under it with lights somehow attached to the cover. She could see a small generator near the tent with cords going into the tent and to the gazebo, presumably to power the lights and God knew whatever was in the tent. "Rough it much?" she asked. "No reason you can't be comfortable out in the woods," Duane replied.

"How'd you even get all that stuff up here?"

Duane pointed to the left of the tent, "Deer carts. Hunters use them for hauling their trophies back to camp. But, if you're careful, you can get quite a bit of stuff on them and pull them behind you. And packs, of course."

"Yep, you're crazy."

Just then the tent flap was thrown back and a guy came out, "What the hell is that racket?"

He was a ways away, but Heather thought he was somewhat smaller than Duane with blond hair. Another decent build though and about Duane's age. Early to mid thirties, she guessed. Heather decided that there could be worse ordeals.

Duane held up the fish, "I brought dinner. And a guest."

Jake's eyes moved past Duane to see Heather for the first time. "Damn. What were you using for bait?"

Duane and Heather finished walking into the camp. Duane made introductions, "Jake, this is Heather. Heather, this is Jake."

They shook hands and they said, "Pleased to meet you."

"So, you went walking in the woods with this guy," Jake said. "You're braver than you look."

Duane rolled his eyes, "Come on dude, she's already accused me of stalking her."

Jake laughed, "I'm joking. But seriously, what's the story?"

"I found her doing stretching exercises and got to talking. I had to come back this way and the spot she was going to camp was this way so we walked together and -- shocker -- guess where she was heading."

"Oh," said Jake, studying Heather. "What were you stretching?"

"Hammy. Right leg."

"Still tight?"

"Yeah," Heather said, reaching back to massage the sore muscle. "I thought I got it, but it's still there."

"I can see it." Jake moved around behind her and lifted the weight of the pack off her shoulders, "Let me check something."

Before she knew it her pack was on the ground and Jake's fingers were tracing down her spine. She shook her head, Two guys in two hours with their hands on me. But he seemed to be doing it with a purpose so maybe they were chiropractors.

"Careful with the hips," Duane said. "She's sensitive."

Jake's fingers stopped, "Pain?"

"She thinks they're too wide."

Heather could feel Jake's eyes drop to her ass and heard him say, "No. They're not."

"Are you guys related? ‘Cause if you are, this whole Brokeback Mountain thing you've got going could get uncomfortable."

Jake laughed easily, "There are two cots in there. Okay, I see it. You're just a little out of whack. This'll just take a sec --"

Again, before she knew what was happening, Jake grabbed her hip and shoulder and gave her a sharp tug against his body. She felt a pop and suddenly the tightness in her leg was gone. She stepped away from Jake, "Okay, good. But ask before you do that again."

"He didn't want you to tense up before he made the adjustment," Duane said, heading for the tent. "I'm gonna put the fish in the fridge. You want a beer?"

"Fridge?" Heather waved away the question, "Never mind. I don't drink beer and I want to get set up and change my clothes before the sun gets behind the mountains. Maybe something a little stronger if you've got it afterward."

"You got it," Duane said. "See you in a bit. Where you gonna set up?"

Heather looked around and saw some flat ground near a tree, "Over there I think." She picked up her pack and walked over to her spot.

Duane and Jake watched her for a moment as she began to set up her tent. Jake said, "You need to go fishing by yourself more often."

"Mm hm."

"I'm going to start a fire, you?"

Duane was still watching Heather, "I'm going to set up the hammock, then help you collect some wood."

He went into the tent to grab the hammock and some rope. By the time he came back out, Heather had the tent up and was going through her pack. He looked around the camp for two suitable trees for the hammock and decided that they were just beyond Heather's tent.

Heather sat back from the pack and cast her mind back to when she packed. She had her camera equipment, food, utensils, panties, bras, extra tank tops, extra shorts, her sleeping bag, pillow, et cetera. In fact, she had everything except -- she closed her eyes and pictured her bedroom at home. They had been neatly folded and laying on the bed, ready to be packed. And she didn't remember to pick them up. Her hand went to her forehead and her jaw fell open. How could I be so stupid?! "I am totally fucked," she muttered.

"Could be if you want to be," Duane said without looking up from the knot he was tying.

Heather spun, "You have got to stop sneaking up on me!"

"Didn't mean to," he said, "and I was just joking there. What's the problem?"

Heather waved at her pack in disgust, "Back home I laid out everything I was going to need and then worked out how to fit it in the pack. Everything is in here except what I need most right now; my warm clothes. They're sitting in the middle of my bed right where I left ‘em."

Duane gave a low whistle, "That sucks." He finished tying up the hammock and said, "Well, I guess we'll have to keep you warm. You can hang with us by the fire and then pull up a floor in the tent."

"I couldn't possibly impose," she said. "I'll just put my tent by the fire and head back tomorrow."

"Don't be silly," Duane said. "We have plenty of room. I'll show you around after I go fetch some wood."

Heather watched him disappear into the woods, then stood and walked down to the water. She stood there, looking at the view, for a full two minutes before she clenched her fists and primal-screamed at it.

Half an hour later Duane had assembled quite an impressive pile of dry wood by the fire pit and Jake started making kindling out one of the larger pieces with a hatchet. "Did I hear a scream?"

"Heather forgot something very important at home." He looked at her, "You want that drink now?"

Heather held up a hip flask. "Oh, look what I remembered. Tequila yes, warm clothing no."

"Well I better get this going then," Jake said. He started stacking sticks on top of wadded up paper, "She moved into the tent yet?"

"No," Heather said. "Like I said, I'll just pull my tent over here and make do."

"Don't be silly," Duane said. "Once the sun is fully behind the mountains, the temperature is going to drop like it fell off a table. Upper thirties at best." He looked at her clothes. "I saw your sleeping bag, what's your plan?"

Heather had brought her lightweight bag in the interest of weight knowing that she could layer her warm clothes if she got too cold. In an extreme situation, she could warm a couple of stones by the fire and put them in her bag with her. Now, the stones would have to be so hot that they'd burn her if she touched them. She shrugged her shoulders, "Admittedly, not a good one." She looked at the large tent, "Okay, let's see what you got."

"Oh man, Heather," Duane groaned, "yer killin' me."

Heather blushed, bringing out the spray of otherwise faint freckles across her cheeks. Another perceived flaw, "Not what I meant."

Duane held back the tent flap with a grin, "At least let me buy you dinner."

"Shut. Up," Heather said as she stomped past him. Inside, she stopped dead and took in the space where she stood. On the left wall was a cot, it's twin on the opposite wall, packs propped against the ends of each. In between stood a two cubic foot refrigerator, a small table that held a small appliance with three bottles of different spirits and on the floor stood a small heater. In the middle of the room was a folding picnic table with attached benches. The dirt of the floor was covered by a green tarp. Move the table and she would have plenty of room on the floor right in front of the heater. "How long are you guys here for?"

"A week," Duane said. "We left the trail-head just before dawn this morning. Plan to pull out next Saturday."

Heather blushed again but let the innuendo pass. Instead she said, "Tell you what, I'll keep it tidy if you let me sleep here."

"Deal," Duane said. "But I was serious about dinner. We have extra fish."

"Sure," Heather said walking over to the small table on the wall. Putting her hand on the small appliance, she said, "What's this?"

"Ice maker," Duane answered. "The first gallon of water we pack in. After that, we feed it boiled lake water. In a week it'll make enough ice to pack the fish we catch for the trip out, plus enough for drinks during the week. The whole thing's powered by the generator outside."

"You lugged gas that far?"

"Nah. It runs on propane. You know those squat little green ones? Four of ‘em will run it for a week."

Heather shook her head as she walked past him to the tent flap, "You guys are crazy. But I'm sort of glad you are."

Duane followed her outside and they gave the news to Jake that she'd be joining them in the tent. The guys grabbed a couple of beers and Heather raised her flask to toast the arrangement. They sat around the fire talking and when the fire was down to coals, Jake began preparing the fish to cook. He started by setting a large cast iron skillet directly on the glowing coals.

Duane held up one of the trout, "Four hours ago this guy was swimming around, not even knowing he was wet. Now Jake is going to do his magic on him." He looked at Heather, "You're in for a treat. It doesn't get much better than this."

"Can't wait," Heather said, "I'm starving."

Jake gestured toward three foil balls that he'd put close to the flames not long after he'd got it lit, "Sort of figured you'd be joining us. Potatoes will be done just about the same time as the fish."

They ate around the fire, Duane and Jake on chairs from the gazebo, Heather on a large stone seemingly strategically placed just outside the ring of rocks that made up the fire pit.

"So, you know what we do, Heather," Duane said. "What keeps you busy in the real world?"

"I'm in marketing," she said, crunching on a trout tail. "Basically, I try to get more business for my clients."

Duane and Jake looked at each other.

"We should hire her," Jake said.

"You guys need help?"

"We do okay," Duane said. "Can always do better."

Heather held out her hand, "Do you have a card?"

Jake pulled out his wallet and handed her a card.

She wrinkled her nose, "This is it? It just has your names and a phone number. And that you're chiropractors."

"Well, yeah," Jake said. "What else would it say?"

"Well, if you turn it like this," she said, standing it on end, "you could put a picture of a spine down the middle, your names on this side, services you provide on the other and your address and phone number on the back. What's your web presence like?"

"We have an ad in the yellow pages," Duane said.

"Yellow pages?! Dear God, you do need my help!" Heather shook her head, "I'll hold onto this piece of crap and call you when we get back." She slipped it into the front pocket of her cutoffs.

The guys got a couple more beers and they toasted to their newest arrangement. Heather took a bigger swig than she meant to and she realized that she was getting close to being out of her liquor. She did have a nice little warm glow throughout her body though.

The plates were paper so doing the dishes consisted of throwing them in the fire and wiping out the skillet. Jake went into the tent and came back with the folding picnic table in one hand and a bag of M & Ms in the other. He set up the table and pulled a deck of cards out of a front pocket, "Pass the time while the fire's still going?"

"What are we playing for," Heather asked.

"Candy," Duane said, pointing at the bag. "You're winnings are your dessert."

They divvied up the candy and Jake shuffled, then dealt the cards, "Stud poker, no jokers."

They played, each winning a pot, and Jake said, "So Heather, why exactly are you out here?

"To take pictures," she said, studying her cards.

"All this way to take pictures," Duane was incredulous. "You can't eat pictures! You're the crazy one in this bunch!"

"But, if your pictures are good enough," she said, throwing two cards, "they can buy you fish."

"You sell your pictures," Jake asked.

"I've captured a couple of images that people have liked," Heather said. "It really is just a hobby, but I guess you could call me a semi-pro." She threw a bunch of candies into the pot to call the bet. Lost the hand, "Damn."

"Anything we would know," Jake asked, dealing the next hand.

Heather thought a moment, looking toward where the point would be if the sun hadn't gone down. "Maybe one." She threw in her ante and picked up her cards, "One morning I'm sitting here drinking my coffee, getting setup to take pictures of a storm coming in from the west with a glorious sunrise to the east. Seriously, not a cloud in the sky to the east, storm to the west. It gave the clouds this wonderful golden glow highlighting the dark shadows." She discarded and drew two cards. "Out of nowhere, this huge bull elk summits the spine and stands there looking out at the storm. I'm set to snap his picture when he turns to look at the sun. I swear the look on his face said, ‘Now there's something you don't see everyday.' Click. Caught him in all his glory with the clouds as a backdrop. Outdoorsy types seem to like it. I've sold quite a few." She threw in her cards in disgust.

Duane was sitting there with his mouth open, "Shut up." He dug out his phone and clicked some buttons. He held it up for Heather to see, "This is the one?"

Heather took the phone and smiled at the image, "That's the one."

"Pinch the pic."

She did and her smile broadened. "It's over my couch," he said. "I paid three-hundred dollars for it."

It was Heather's turn to deal. Duane had been watching her as they played. "You keep looking at the camp. What's up?"

"I'm just wondering how long it would take to take it down," she said without looking up.

Duane looked at Jake then back to her, "I'm sorry?"

"It's just," She threw a handful of candies into the pot, "I told you I'm out here working on a project. This beach; sunrise and sunset. I take a picture of the lake with the sunrise lighting up the far shore from a spot near the water. At sunset, I'm out on the point capturing the light playing on the trees over here. It's in tribute to my parents. I spread their ashes off this beach." She raised her bet in response to Jake's raise. "Thing is, on the first two outings, my tent sits where your tent is now and all this," she waved a hand around her, "is not. This camp sort of ruins the continuity." Finally, she pulled the candies over to her side of the table with a winning hand. "I'd help."

"A couple of hours, I guess," Jake offered. "But it would be easier if you could wait until we pack up to leave."

"No clothes," Heather said, "remember?"

"We'll figure something out," Duane said. "Are you cold now?"

"Not by the fire, no." Heather looked at her new hand and tried to not react: three aces. She discarded two cards and waited to look at her draw cards, "But I really don't want to impose on you guys." She picked up the two cards and her heart began to race. She waited for her turn to bid as she looked at the fourth ace.

"It's not a problem." Duane threw some candies into the pot.

Jake folded and Heather added a modest raise. Duane raised again which Heather countered with one of her own. They went back and forth until a point came when Heather couldn't match it.

"I can't cover that," Heather said.

"Then the pot is mine, I guess," Duane said.

"But I have the winning hand."

"No, you don't. I promise."

"You're bluffing. There's only one hand that can beat me."

"And I have it."

"There must be something I can use."

Duane thought for a moment and looked at Jake, "Okay, maybe one thing. When I win, you do a repeat of that stretching yoga I saw you doing on the trail."

Heather sat back and said, "I'll do it right now." She started to stand.

"Naked."

Heather sat back down, "Naked? Why?"

"I'm a guy," Duane said with a shrug. "I haven't been able to get the image of you doing those stretches out of my mind all day long. The only thing better than seeing it again would be seeing all of you when you do it." "You might as well throw in a strip-tease to make it interesting," Jake offered.

"To make it interesting?"

"You don't have to do anything," Duane said. "Just take the loss."

"But I have the winning hand," Heather repeated.

"No. You don't. But there's really only one way to find out for sure."

Heather's mind raced. The only hand that could beat her would be a straight flush. Not a royal flush since she had all the aces. What were the chances of a straight flush and four of a kind showing up in the same hand. They had to be astronomical. He had to be bluffing. "Okay, fine. Naked yoga and a strip-tease."

"Jake needs a taste of what he's in for," Duane said. "Stand up and show him that bend-at-the-waist-hug-your-knees thing."

"What? Why?"

"Think of it as your ante for the end of the hand."

Heather glared at him, but stood and turned her back to them. "I feel ridiculous." She hadn't thought about it before, but as she bent at the waist, she could feel her shorts ride up her cheeks. When she hugged her knees, she was acutely aware that they were essentially looking at her bare butt with just a thin strip of material hiding her pussy. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Heather, I'm not trying to offend you," Duane said in wonder, "but I don't care what you say, you have the finest ass I think I've ever seen."

"World class," Jake agreed.

"World class my ass," Heather scoffed, standing back up. "You guys need to get out more."

Duane put his hand on his cards, "Last chance to back out. If I turn these cards, it's too late."

Heather flipped her cards confidently, "Let's see what you've got."

Duane nodded, "Four aces. That's a damn fine hand. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred that's a guaranteed winner. Unfortunately," he looked at Jake, "fortunately? Anyway this is that hundredth time." He flipped his cards, spread them out and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Heather felt a lump form in the pit of her stomach. Before her lay a king high straight. All black. All clubs. Ah, shit!

Duane looked at Jake, "So, what do you think, here by the fire; or in the tent?"

"In the tent would be warmer," Jake ventured.

"Plus afterward she could just slide into bed," Duane finished the thought.

Shit, Heather thought. She certainly didn't want to get naked in front of two guys she barely knew. She couldn't believe that she'd lost that hand. It wasn't just ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it was more like ninety-nine point nineninenineninenine et cetera. Problem is, no matter how many nines you put to the right of that decimal, there's another number with that many zeros followed by a one. What were the chances that would happen again? Slim to none she thought. Duane and Jake were still talking when she interrupted them, "Double or nothing."

Duane and Jake both turned to her and Duane said, "Sorry?"

"Double or nothing," Heather said. "Come on, that was a fluke. I should have won that hand and you know it. You already have all the candy, you guys don't really want to see me naked."

"You're joking," Duane said, "right?"

"We sort of do," Jake added.

"It's pretty much all I've thought about since I met you," Duane said. "I think I'm good. So, the tent?"

Jake scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Interesting thought though; what would double or nothing on naked yoga even look like?"

"I don't know," Duane answered. He shrugged, "I mean, after the striptease, the mystery of nudity is sort of gone."

"Lap dance," Jake suggested.

"Naked lap dance?" Duane considered this.

"Wait," Jake held up a finger. "Her or us?"

"Both?"

Naked lap dance on two naked dicks that, even in this light, Heather could see were coming to attention. That couldn't end well. Her eyes bounced between them, following the conversation, like she was watching a tennis match.

"No," Duane said, "Still to much to risk. I mean, she's already getting naked."

"What then," Jake asked. "What would be worth the risk?"

Uh, oh. Heather could see this spiraling out of control. What would they accept that wouldn't that was short of--well, she didn't want to think of what it was short of. Duane and Jake were looking at each other and she could see the gears working. The thought wasn't even fully formed in her mind when she heard the words come from her own mouth, "Blow jobs."

The guys eyes went wide and they slowly turned to look at her. Duane said, "Sorry?"

"You heard me," Heather said. "I'll give a blow job to whoever I don't beat. One hand for all the marbles. And the candy."

"You're on," Duane said, picking up the cards.

Heather held her hand out, "I deal."

Duane handed them over. Heather shuffled them and dealt. They looked at their cards and made their decisions. Duane asked for two, Jake three and Heather took three, keeping an ace/king combo. She didn't even look to see what she got; given the nature of the bet there was no point. She felt a tightness in the pit of her stomach as she said, "Okay, all the marbles. Let's see what you have."

Jake flipped his cards showing a pair of eights. Duane revealed three ladies. A drawn pair of aces or kings, added to what she had would beat both of them, giving her three of either, and she was off the hook. But, that tightness in her stomach was beginning to solidify. She took a swig off her flask, emptying the contents down her throat. With a slightly trembling hand, she reached out and flipped her cards to reveal--ace high shit.

Her ears began to ring and that tightness in her stomach became a rock. Duane said something to Jake, she thought and she stood. Her senses picked up things that a person normally gives no attention to; the smell of the campfire, wind through the trees, the hoot of an owl. The reality of her position descended on her like a crushing weight. She was seventeen miles from her car, which in turn was ten miles from the nearest town, alone, at night, playing poker with two guys she had met less than twelve hours ago. Oh, and she had just lost a bet to not only perform a striptease, but after that, to suck their cocks, which she could see even now pitching tents in their respective owners pants. She ran various scenarios through her mind, each more horrific than the one before. Her eyes darted left and right, looking for some avenue of escape. They came to rest on her own tent and she knew what she had to do.

"I'm--I'm sorry," she said, crossing her arms across her chest and stepping toward it, "I--I just can't."

"Heather," Duane called, but she just held up a hand and continued on.

The temperature dropped significantly after just a couple steps away from the fire. She expected to be grabbed from behind at any moment, but she wasn't. She climbed into the small, cold space of her tent, hating herself for what she'd just become. Her breath came in pants, making small clouds in front of her as she pressed against the back wall of her tent, waiting for the flap to be thrown back, as she was sure it would be. Then would come the hands and the dragging out into the open. But it never came. Then she realized that the "wall" she was wedged against was really just nylon and she scooted to the middle of the space and wrapped her thin sleeping bag around her shoulders.

Unbidden, voices entered her mind, her shame conjuring the two people she wanted least in the world to disappoint. Given her proximity to their final resting place, it wasn't all that surprising really. Her mother first, "I raised you better than to make a bet of that sort!"

"I know mama, I'm sorry."

But her father would be the hardest. "What are you doing young lady?"

"Daddy, I can't."

"You have a debt. You must pay it."

"But, daddy--"

"Whose idea was the bet?"

"Mine."

"Were you coerced to make the bet?"

"No."

"Do you have the ability to make good on the bet?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"There are no buts! Never make a bet you're not willing to pay off! That was one of my hardest lessons to you. When you were twelve."

"I remember it well," she said in her mind. "But daddy, this is oral sex. I barely know these guys! I only met them this afternoon. How can I?"

"Countless women have done the very same thing for millennium to men they'd met five minutes before. You, at least, know their names."

"So, I'm a whore?"

"No," her father replied. "You're merely an honorable person making good on a bet she never should have made." Her ghost father shook his head ruefully, "A single hand of five card stud with no ability to raise or bluff? Really? What happened to ‘Never bet on something you have absolutely no control over?'"

"I couldn't believe it could happen twice in a row like that."

"At best," her father said, "you were going to be sucking one of their dicks. You had no reason to expect you'd win. Whose did you want it to be?"

"Daddy!!" Heather was appalled by the suggestion even as she realized that there was a kernel of truth in it. Whose did she want it to be? "Duane's. Maybe. But Jake is cute too." She shook her head, "Oh daddy, how do I do this?"

"Debase yourself as little as possible, learn from your mistake, never make it again." He turned to walk away but stopped, "Enjoy yourself, if you can."

And then her father was gone. "Enjoy yourself, if you can?!" What the fuck was that? If life hands you lemons, make lemonade? It boiled down to just getting through it as best as she could, she knew. And it wasn't like she didn't have experience. There was her senior year in high school on the base with Tommy. And she certainly wasn't a nun in college. She'd even let herself be picked up a couple of times since college. Come to that, if either Duane or Jake approached her in a bar, would they have a chance with her? She had to admit that they would. It was simply her current situation out in the middle of nowhere that was the difference. And that made her something worse than a welsher. That made her a--she couldn't admit it.

She ran the day's events through her mind, looking for red flags that she could grab onto as justification for her actions and could find none. Duane and Jake had been playfully flirtatious, but any red flags had been planted by herself. They didn't deserve what she had done. She knew she had to make good on her bet. She gathered her sleeping bag and was just getting ready to crawl back out of the tent when there was a noise outside.

"Heather," Duane's voice said, "come into the tent."

She jerked back, her resolve gone, "I can't. I welshed on the bet. There's a price to pay."

The zipper on her flap opened and Duane pulled it back. He crouched there, well back from the opening, trying to be as non-threatening as a man his size could be. "That may be," he said, "and we can talk about that, but that price shouldn't be capital in nature. Heather, I don't even have a light and I can see you shivering from here. Grab your stuff and follow me."

"It wouldn't be right," she said.

"Heather," Duane said, holding out his hand, "Neither Jake or I want to explain to a park ranger why we let a woman, who we knew wasn't prepared, freeze to death. Come on."

She hesitated, then took his hand and let herself be pulled from the small tent. Jake was gone from the fire, the picnic table standing unoccupied and she clutched the sleeping bag along with her self-inflating air mattress to her chest as she walked without a word, her mind working with her steps, her gaze falling on the stone she'd used as a seat.

"You mentioned keeping the place tidy," Duane was saying, "maybe we could fashion a little french maid outfit from fir tree boughs." He glanced at her when she didn't respond, "That was a joke." Still no response, she was deep in thought.

They entered the larger tent and Heather dumped her stuff in the middle of the floor, heading straight for the small bar. Duane and Jake were saying something but it was like her ears were stuffed with cotton, she didn't hear what they were saying. She looked at the labels on the bottles, found the tequila, took a swig, and turned around, surveying her surroundings. She'd been in the tent once before, but now she examined it more closely. The tent itself had canvas walls and a roof supported by a sturdy aluminum framework covering a ten by twelve foot footprint. The peak of the roof was held up a central pole that she didn't think could bear her weight like a traditional pole dancer, but she might be able to use to brace herself. As mentioned before, cots on opposite walls with packs propped against their ends with various appliances and tables between them. All in all, plenty of space for her striptease if she deposited her stuff on one of the cots instead of the floor, which she did. She still had the bottle of tequila in her hand, so she took another hit, the heat of the liquor melting the rock that had been in her stomach since she lost the bet, and, surprisingly, spreading to her pussy and nipples. She turned to the guys and said, "Take off your shirts."

Duane and Jake stopped talking, looked at each other and then at her. Jake said, "Excuse me, what did you say?"

"Take off your shirts," Heather repeated. "And your pants. I'm going to make good on my bet."

"Heather," Duane started, "you don't have to--"

"Yes I do," Heather interrupted. "I want to."

"You want to," Duane repeated, testing the words in his mouth as if for taste. "Why? What's different now from twenty minutes ago?" He looked at Jake uncertainly, "We were never going to let you go through with it. It was really just a fantasy."

"A fantasy?"

"Well, yeah," Duane continued. "I mean, we would probably have let you get topless, ‘cause I'd personally like to see your tits, but no further than your panties. We would have stopped you at that point."

"You find me that attractive?"

Duane rolled his eyes and sat down on a folding chair. Jake joined him on another, "Come on Heather, look in a mirror. You're as close to my ideal as I've ever met. A solid nine point nine out of ten. There's no such thing as perfect."

"What about you," Heather asked Jake.

"Not my ideal," Jake said. "I prefer blonds and brunettes, their nipples are darker than the typical redhead's, but you're a solid nine point five on any scale."

"I appreciate honesty," Heather said, a small smile playing across her full lips, "but you're about to find out that I'm not typical."

"I'm intrigued," Duane said, "but back to my question; why now?"

"My father," Heather said simply.

"Your dead father," Jake clarified.

"He was a marine," Heather said. "We moved from camp to camp before I have any clear memory, but after elementary school, he was sent to Pendelton where he finished out his twenty-five. We would come up here every year starting when I was about twelve--"

"You made that hike when you were twelve?" Duane was aghast.

"Marine's daughter," Heather said, "it was an active life." She waved her hand, "Doesn't matter. Long story short, I built that fire pit we were sitting around on our first trip up here by myself because I lost a bet to my dad."

"What was the bet," Jake said in wonder; they were big rocks.

"That stone I was sitting on? I bet my dad he couldn't move it." She shrugged her shoulders, "It looked bigger when I was twelve. It took me three days to build that fire pit. Mom tried to get daddy to help me but he was adamant. Anyway, I learned two very important things from that bet. First, don't make a bet you're not ready or able to make good on if you lose, and second, never make a bet on something you have no control over." She took another hit of liquid courage. "I violated both of those rules with this bet." She put the bottle down; passing out at this point would not be helpful. "But above all else, never, ever, welsh on a bet. It was one of my father's most hated cardinal sins, and when I walked away, I committed that sin. Not something I can live with."

"That sounds like coercion," Duane said, "in a weird, twisted way that I can't really get my head around."

"But that's not even the worst of it," Heather pressed on. "When I walked away, it was because the enormity of my situation--you know, out in the middle of nowhere, two guys I just met, who are bigger than me and I don't really know--came crashing down on me and I got scared. I had to get away and I ran, basically. That made me a coward, my father's other cardinal sin."

"Heather," Duane said sadly, "If you had to worry about anything like that, we've had plenty of opportunity all day."

"A bit of logic I worked out for myself freezing in my tent. My father believed there was a special place in hell for welshers and cowards. They're there together, the welshers always cheating the cowards and the cowards too cowardly to call them on it." She rotated her finger, "It's kind of a vicious circle. Seems okay for the welshers but, it is hell after all."

"But," Jake said, "why are you okay with this now?"

Heather pointed at Duane, "When I busted you for being aroused when you were watching me stretch, you blushed. I figure a psycho wouldn't have cared." She looked at both of them, "Why didn't you both come out to the tent just now?"

"We didn't want you to feel outnumbered," Duane said. "You were obviously already freaked out."

"Good call," Heather said. "And you came because I'd known you longer. If only by an hour or so. Fact is, I'd already decided to come back. I was gathering my stuff when you came up. You guys not wanting anything to happen to me confirmed my decision." She put her hands on her hips. "So, come on. Get the clothes off."

Jake and Duane didn't move beyond looking at each other. Neither made any move to remove any article of clothing.

Heather's eyebrow rose, "Come on boys, don't get shy on me now. You guys have been in a locker room together before, right?"

Duane cleared his throat, "Not to, um, have our cocks sucked, no."

Heather sighed, "Well, how did you think this was going to work? Clothes are going to sort of get in the way. You're gonna get your eye-candy, I want mine too. I want to see what I'm dealing with."

Still, neither of them moved. Duane finally spoke up, "Speaking of your father, he'd be okay with this?"

Heather scoffed, "Oh, hell no! He was a marine. He'd kick both your asses just for taking this kind of bet from his little girl." She smiled gently, "But not too much. He'd want you to enjoy me making good on it. You'd just never take a bet like this ever again. So come on, let's get this party started. Here, I'll start." She took off her top shirt and bent at the waist to remove her shoes, giving them a good long look at her cleavage as she took her time. "I'm going to leave my socks on, if you don't mind. My toes are still a little cold."

Duane and Jake removed their shoes and socks and stood. Studiously not looking at each other, they removed their shirts--"Nice," Heather said--and then dropped their pants.

"Oh my," Heather said, noting that they were both already semi-hard, "and I haven't even done anything yet."

"But you're going to," Duane said.

"And for a guy," Jake continued, "that's enough."

They both sat down again.

"Okay, a couple of things," Heather said. "First, I'm not married and I don't currently have a boyfriend, so I haven't bothered to keep things real tidy--down there." She held up a hand when Duane started to say something, "Let me finish. I shave my legs and my pits to be presentable for business, but I'm currently sporting a shag carpet, if you know what I mean.

"Second, if either of you are married or have a serious girlfriend, I don't want to know about it. I'm not interested in being THAT girl.

"Third, and this is probably the most important point, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can ever know even the slightest detail of what's about to happen here. Okay, now you can comment."

Duane held up fingers as he ticked off her points, "First, no problem. Second, okay. Third, not a chance in hell."

Heather's mouth fell open and she put her hands on her hips, "What?! Why?"

Duane looked at Jake, "Do you want to tell her?"

"You go ahead," Jake said. "I think I know where your going."

Duane turned back to Heather, "It's simple logic, really. The third point violates the second."

"I don't follow," Heather said, "I thought that was a perfectly reasonable request."

"We guys," Duane began, "brag about our conquests to anyone who will listen or who we want to impress. You might call it a pissing contest, but it's the truth of the matter. The only possible reason that we wouldn't is if we were afraid of it getting back to someone that it shouldn't, which gives you an answer to point number two that you say you don't want." He looked at Jake for confirmation, who shrugged his agreement. "I can guarantee no name or description beyond ‘a smokin' hot hiker did a striptease and sucked our cocks'."

"In the woods," Jake added.

"On the day we met her," Duane continued.

"After she lost a poker bet," Jake finished.

"That makes a certain amount of perverse sense," Heather had to admit. Then she held out her hand, "Your phones. I've seen yours Duane. You too Jake, give them here. No way this ends up on the internet."

"Mine's over by my cot," Jake said as Duane dug his out of his jeans and handed it over.

Heather looked to her left and could see Jake's phone on the small table by the cot where she'd thrown her stuff. Okay then, may as well get this thing started. "A little music would help."

"That I can do," Duane said, going over to his cot and pulling a bluetooth speaker out from under it. He pushed a switch to power it on, then held his hand out to Heather, "The music's on my phone."

Reluctantly, Heather gave it to him and he started scrolling through his music files. Finally he said, "Got it," and hit the play button, "Drunk on You, by Luke Bryan."

Heather was familiar with the tune and her hips began to sway as she took the phone back and put it on what would be Duane's cot. She moved around the room sensually to the opening strains, pulling her hair out of the elastic band and shaking it loose. She turned her head to maintain eye contact with her audience as much as possible and found herself enjoying their attention. She made sure her back was to them when Luke got to the first, girl, you make my speakers go boom, boom, and did a little double hop that she hoped made her ass jiggle for them. Then came the line about spilling the homemade wine on her tee-shirt and, while she was really wearing a tank top, there's only one thing to do with a stained shirt; she pulled it up over her head and threw it toward her pile of things, again with her back to the men. She wasn't wearing a bra. A quick movement of her fingers popped the button of her shorts and pulled down the fly, preparing for the big reveal. She covered her alarmingly stiff nipples--am I really enjoying displaying myself like this?--and turned to her guys. She danced like that until the second boom, boom when she dropped her hands and used her shoulders to shake her tits. Their mouths hung slightly open and a quick glance told her that her dance was having its desired effect on their dicks; they were totally captivated and getting more aroused by the second. Holding the pole for support, she raised a leg and pressed her crotch against the cold metal. She doubted the guys even noticed that her shorts were open. At the start of the phrase, let's slip on out where it's a little bit darker, she cartwheeled to a handstand and dropped her feet so that she presented her ass to her prey. Then at, we'll take it off on out in the water, she hooked her thumbs under the waistbands of both her shorts and panties--she hadn't expected to need sexy panties when she'd gotten dressed that morning--and slipped them down her long legs, hugging her knees and watching their eyes as the song got to the next boom, boom and she treated them to a double cheek flex. She held that pose a beat longer, giving them a good, long, look, then slowly stood and turned. For the final chorus, she started toward her first prey and the final boom, boom was a double hip thrust that ended with her straddling Duane's lap; being very careful to avoid his cock. She put her arms around his neck and, as the song ended, covered his mouth with hers for a kiss that surprised her with the pleasure it gave her.

She felt Duane's hands on her tits as the music moved on to the next song on the playlist--an upbeat number--and he gave her nipples gentle little pinches. When she broke the kiss he asked, "What was that for?"

"I always kiss a guy before I suck his cock," Heather said, sliding off his lap and between his legs. She ran her tongue down his chest as her hand wrapped itself around his shaft. She stacked her other hand on top of the first and did a quick calculation. About three inches per hand, a decent inch and a half of dick shaft above her fists and then the cock head. Over eight inches and it wasn't even fully hard yet. Nice. She wondered how it would feel--Stop it!

"I fed you," Jake complained, "why is he first?"

Heather took a testicle into her mouth gently, then slowly ran her tongue up the length of Duane's cock. At the top she looked Jake in his eyes and said, "You fed me what he caught." She ran her tongue around the swollen head and prodded the little opening with the tip. "You should have gone fishing." With that she took the head between her lips and lowered her mouth as far as she could go on a first try.

Duane brought the heels of his hands to his eyes and let his head fall back with a groan. "Don't worry, Jake," he said, "this girl's had me in a state all day long. This won't take long." He gently laid a hand on the back of Heather's bobbing head, "Oh my God that's nice. She's doing this thing with her tongue as she goes up and down. Kinda hard to describe, but it'll drive you wild." He stroked Heather's hair, "You really didn't have to do this babe, but I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that you are. So you know; like I said, you've had me in a state all day, so when the time comes, I'm not gonna fight it. I'll give you a heads up, but you're gonna have to be quick to get out of the way." His hands tangled themselves in Heather's hair, "Oh man, I hope to God you're not quick."

Heather pumped his cock as she took a break and smiled coyly, "Are you saying that you want to cum in my mouth? What if I told you that when I give head, I never waste a drop?" Her tongue darted out and the tip collected a drop of precum. Then she returned to using her mouth to milk Duane's manhood.

Jake, who was idly stroking his own cock as he watched this whole thing, saw his friend's eyes go wide and his hands suddenly grip the sides of the chair. Heather's head stopped moving and he saw her throat working while Duane's balls pumped his seed into her mouth as he moaned. "I've never been in a room with another guy cumming in a woman's mouth. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. Disturbing on one hand. On the other, the sexiest porn I've ever seen."

Heather said nothing, continuing to pump Duane's cock, as she wasted not a precious drop. When his flow had ceased and his cock began to deflate, though not as much or as quickly as she expected, interesting, she released him and said, "You said you'd warn me."

Duane looked down at Heather over his still standing cock and said, "I'm cumming. Sorry."

"Not a problem," she said as she stood and turned to Jake. "One down and one to go. Your turn chef." She threw a leg over his lap as with Duane and settled in. She leaned in to kiss him, but Jake stopped her.

"He just came in your mouth."

"True," Heather said and opened her mouth wide. "It all went down my throat. You'd have to have a tongue a mile long to come close to where that fire hose shot it's wad. I told you, I don't waste a drop." Before he could object further, she grabbed his head and planted her mouth on his. She felt him resist at first, but then his hands found her tits and she felt him relax and the pole of flesh trapped between her belly and his got noticeably firmer.

When she broke the kiss, Jake lowered his head and used a hand to raise one of her nipples to his mouth. She leaned back and let him enjoy himself on first one, then the other nipple. When he was satisfied--for the moment at least--he said, "Your nipples are darker than most redheads I've seen. You just jumped to a solid nine point seven five. Or nine point eight."

Heather slid her tongue down his chest, as she'd done to Duane, matching her move to get between his legs. "Like I said, I'm far from typical." She made the same impromtu measurement and found that Jake's cock was a little shorter than his friend's, but substantially thicker. Hmmm.

She settled in, arching her back and spreading her knees, intending to give him the best view of her ass from his position. She started as she had with Duane, gently sucking a testicle into her mouth. She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft and took his cock head between her lips and into her mouth. As she sucked him, giving him as much attention as she'd given his friend, she hadn't kept track of what Duane was doing.

She didn't notice him get out of his chair or that his cock had nearly returned to full staff. She didn't notice him get on his back between her spread knees. In fact, her first indication that he wasn't where she'd left him was when she felt his hands on her ass and he sucked her clit between his lips. "Ohhh," she moaned around Jake's cock. Then his tongue alternated between licking her slit and strumming her clit. He spent a great deal of time there, sucking on her little nub like it was a cock itself. Oh, sweet Jesus. "Hey," she said dreamily, stroking Jake's cock while she took the break, "cunt eating wasn't part of the bet."

"You want me to stop," Duane asked as he didn't.

"Nooo," Heather cooed, "I didn't say that." She moaned around Jake's cock as she returned to the business at hand. Thing was, both these cocks were salty and there was a pungent funkiness coming from their crotches that some might find disagreeable but she understood to come from a long hike, wearing packs and hauling loaded deer carts to this camp. She could only imagine the fragrance and taste of her own swamp. Then Duane's tongue plunged deep into that swamp, so clearly he didn't care. She decided that he must understand reality as she did and moaned on Jake's rock hard pole again.

"Whatever you're doing buddy," Jake sighed, "keep it up. This feels incredible." He rested a hand on the back of Heather's head, "I mean absolutely no disrespect by this, but you without a doubt the most talented cocksucker ever to polish my knob."

She moaned again as Duane inserted a finger into her cunt and returned to sucking her clit. Thing was, she was getting distracted--more distracted by the moment--and she found herself stroking Jake's cock with her eyes closed and mouth open more than she was sucking it. He didn't seem to mind, though, because when he was in her mouth, she was usually moaning and he liked that quite a lot.

The problem was, with the alcohol, the striptease, the cock sucking, the cum drinking, and now the cunt licking, she was getting seriously horny. All it would take for this night to get totally out of control would be for her to--the orgasm came from out of nowhere, exploding through her body like an igniting sun. She cried out, her cheek against Jake's cock as her cunt ground on Duane's mouth. Her ass and back clenched over Duane and she knew that his face was going to be a mess. She took Jake's cock back into her mouth as she rode the crest of the wave, sucking him like a woman possessed. She slowed a bit when the storm inside her body began to subside.

Duane's hands left her ass and she heard him moving behind her. She wasn't sure what he was doing but she knew what she hoped. She felt a hand land on her left cheek, pulling it open, and something much larger than a finger just parted her cunt lips. Oh, fuck yes, her mind cried, I want it soooo bad. But he didn't move. He just held the tip of his cock there, not even really at her entrance. What are you waiting for? Fuck me! And then she understood; if cunt licking wasn't part of the bet, actual fucking sure as hell wasn't! He was telling her that he wanted to, but the actual penetration was entirely up to her. She could pull away or tell him to fuck her. Either way, no harm no foul. He would understand if she didn't want to. The gratitude she felt for his consideration only served to flood her cunt with nectar and she chose a third option that didn't require her to release Jake's cock from her mouth. She moaned deeply as she slowly pushed back, impaling herself on Duane's fuckpole. Just to make sure he got the point, she pulled forward and pushed back again with another moan. After that, Duane understood that it was okay and set up a comfortable rhythm designed to last all night, she thought.

"Are you--" Jake started, pointing at the union of Duane's cock and Heather's ass. When Duane nodded without looking up from Heather's perfect ass, Jake said, "Lucky fucking bastard."

"Don't worry," Heather said, always stroking him, "my cunt's decided that it's hungry. Now that that line is crossed, don't for a moment think that your cock is going to get away unfucked."

Heather returned to loving Jake's cock while Duane pumped her pussy with the same insistent, but unhurried rhythm. She normally preferred a stronger beat, but something about his pace was getting to her on a level she couldn't fully understand, but was deepening her desire nonetheless. She felt another orgasm starting to build deep inside her. Not actually in her pussy so much, but more of a lighting up of each nerve in her body. When it broke she wasn't sure that she'd stay conscious. What was it about these guys? She'd never had a turn around like this before. She moaned with a mouthful of cock.

Jake groaned in response, "Man, I don't know what you're doing, but keep it up. Every time she moans, it comes right out the top of my head." He rested a hand on Heather's bobbing head. "Jesus, I don't know how much more I can take and I really want to fuck this girl! What's that even like?"

Duane closed his eyes, "Man, it's like fucking a satin glove. It's like a perfect grip. Snug without squeezing." He leaned forward without stopping and kissed the middle of Heather's back. A hand reached around and gently squeezed a tit, "By the way babe, I don't care what you say, you do have a perfect ass. I could do this every day, looking at just this view, and die a happy man." He felt her hand playing with her clit and massaging his balls, "Oh yeah, do that."

Heather was surprised by the effect that Duane's words were having on her combined with his constant, steady pace. She took Jake deeper into her throat in time with each of Duane's thrusts until she had more of him down her throat than she thought was possible. He was an inch and a half shorter than Duane, but thicker. Her throat was more stretched than she could ever remember. She drove deeper, her success heightening her arousal over the edge. First her nose buried itself in Jake's bush, his cockhead lodged firmly down her throat. She should be gagging, but Duane's cadence made her moan instead and she felt her cunt start gripping and releasing his cock. Her legs began to tremble and her chest began to heave as she came on a man's cock for the first time in over a year. To support herself through the throes, she dug her nails into Jake's thighs, bobbing her head his entire length for the duration.

She let Duane continue to fuck her as she came down from the intense orgasm and she tried to recover. While she loved what Duane's cock had just done to her, it was time that Jake's wonderful shaft buried itself inside of her. While there was a difference of size in their cocks, there was also a difference between the men. The combination of her long legs and Jake's slightly lesser stature reminded her of an idea that she'd always wanted to try, but had never had a guy that she'd really wanted to do it with.

She released Jake from her mouth and looked over her shoulder, "Thank you for that and I'm nowhere near done with you, but right now I want Jake's cock in my cunt. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely," Duane said and backed out. "For the record, I loved fucking you and can't wait for you to want me again."

Heather smiled up at Jake and said, "Give me a second to recover and I'll be right with you."

"You could just lay on your back," Jake suggested.

""Eventually," Heather said, "but maybe not tonight. There's something I want to do with you. Besides, I've already tasted Duane's creamy cum. He's going to cum in my cunt and you're gonna cum in my mouth."

"You use the word ‘cunt' a lot," Duane said. "That's unusual for your average woman."

Heather laughed, "I told you I wasn't average. Or typical. I never say ‘cunt' in every day life, but during sex, when I'm very turned on, my language tends toward the potty. Does it bother you?"

"Not at all, as long as that applies to all of us," Jake said. "And right now, I desperately want inside of that cunt."

"As you wish," Heather said, standing. She took both of Jake's hands in hers and pulled him to his feet. "Okay, I don't know if this is going work." She braced her left foot against one of his and hooked her right arm around his neck. "Now, put you left arm around my waist and hold on. Like I said, I don't know if this is going to work; I've never tried it before." He did as told and she swung her leg up until she was doing a vertical split with that leg trapped between their bodies.

"Flexibility is a beautiful thing," Jake said.

"Thanks to you for that little adjustment you gave me when I first got here," Heather said, giving him a little peck on the lips. "This wouldn't work with Duane because he's too tall, but we're closer in height. Can you feed that monster to my hungry, hungry pussy?"

Jake grabbed his shaft and guided its tip to where he thought her opening was, since he couldn't see it and said, "Maybe the first time in my life when being shorter is actually an advantage."

It turned out that he was off by a little but a simple adjustment by Heather of her hips had her moaning with closed eyes as her pussy stretched to accommodate his girth. "Oh Jesus that's big."

Jake brought his other arm around and laced his fingers together, holding her firmly in place as he slowly began to fuck her. Duane stepped up and further supported her with a hand to her back and leaned in to suck on the only nipple he could see. Heather reached down and stroked his cock, feeling her cunt relax around Jake's man meat. With all the support, all she had to do was let her head fall back, not let her leg collapse and listen to the music playing in the background. Duane cupped her tit as he stood to kiss her while his friend fucked her.

The thought crossed her mind, while her tongue and Duane's dueled and Jake picked up his pace, now beginning to seriously pound her cunt, that if someone had walked up to her while she was getting ready to head out from her car, and told her that by the end of the day, she'd be involved in a threeway with two guys that she had just met and that she'd be on the verge of her third climax in twenty minutes, she'd have rightfully called that person insane. She wouldn't even have been able to construct a scenario in her mind where that was even a remote possibility, and yet, here she was. She wondered, briefly, if this made her a slut. Or was she just filling a need that she had been ignoring for so long that she'd forgotten that it was there?

The answers to those questions would have to wait, she knew, because her left leg began to tremble like the fore shock of a major earthquake that was about to let go inside her body. They all had a fine sheen of sweat covering their skin, allowing their flesh to slide against one another without friction. The only friction is in my cunt, she thought, nearly delirious with desire, How can I be cumming again so fast? She cried out in pleasure suddenly and began to fall as her left leg lost its ability to support her and her arm slipped from around Jake's neck. Duane was there instantly, pressing his body against her back to catch her. Jake moved, his right hand catching her left ass cheek, his left cupping the other when her right leg slipped off his shoulder and lifting. Her legs dangled as her body shook against Duane's chest, her belly heaved and she threw her head back and forth as Jake's cock--her only contact to the ground--fucked her through her ecstasy. Her body hung limp in their arms while her mind slowly tried to find her brain again. When it did, she only found one thought there, MORE!

She locked eyes with Jake and said, "Put me down and get on your back!"

"As you wish, milady," Jake echoed her. He released her legs and made sure she was steady before lying down on the tarp floor. He arched his back at the contact, "Man, that's cold."

Heather looked down at him and his thick spire pointing straight up at her. The thought occurred to her that that was a long way down there and she wasn't entirely sure that her legs would be able to lift her off the floor if she came again, which she was sure she would. She cast her eyes around the small space, "Better idea. Can those cots hold both of us?"

"I think so," Duane said, understanding what she was thinking. "They're rated to three-hundred pounds. I don't know about Jake, but you're not even close." He dragged his to the center of the tent, next to the support pole.

"Fuck you asshole," Jake said without rancor as he stood. He sat on the end of the cot and laid back, "Like this?"

"Perfect," Heather said with a broad smile. She tried to throw a leg over him to get lined up, but found she had to lean forward and put her hands on his chest for support. Her arms had no strength either, so she just sank down onto him, mashing the length of her body onto his muscular frame. She could feel her cunt pressed against the top of his shaft but didn't have the strength to lift her hips and guide him in. Desire smoldered in her eyes as she pleaded, "Can you help me?"

Jake got a mischievous gleam in his own eyes, "Help you what?"

Heather's eyes narrowed, "Put that thing inside me."

Jake grabbed his shaft and pressed the head against her opening, "This thing? What do you want me to do with it?"

Her eyes never leaving his, she bent down and took one of his nipples between her teeth. Around the trapped flesh she managed, "Fuck me!"

He slipped the head just inside of her dripping snatch and through gritted teeth--because she was causing him a little discomfort--said, "Fuck what exactly?"

"Oh my God," Heather exclaimed, "my cunt! Fuck my cunt!"

"Okay," Jake said and slammed himself home. His hands grabbed her cheeks and pulled them apart as he pounded her at full speed. Zero to sixty in one point five seconds.

Heather's eyes bugged wide and then squeezed shut as her body received exactly what she'd just begged for. But like a cheetah, Jake could go at full speed for only so long and soon throttled back to constant, powerful thrusts that she could respond to by rotating her hips and grinding her clit against his pelvic bone. Eventually, she was able to push herself up on her arms and look around for Duane.

He was close by and she reached out, taking hold of his cock and guiding him into her mouth. After Jake, slipping him down her throat wasn't even a challenge. Plus, he had softened a bit due to lack of attention. She'd tasted herself on a cock before, and liked it, so she went about using her tongue to lick off every delicious drop of her own cum. She'd never tasted another woman's juice on a cock, though, and on particularly frustrating, lonely nights with her dildo, found herself wondering what that might be like. She wasn't sure what she thought about that while she sucked Duane back to full hardness and Jake stoked the fire in her cunt that was blazing back to life. Duane's hand found the back of her head and she stopped fucking back and just enjoyed being a receptacle for these two wonderful cocks. Jesus. Jake fucking her cunt and Duane fucking her face. And her on the verge of cumming again. It bothered her a little that she was loving being a fuck toy. When had she become such a slut. About forty minutes ago, she knew.

The realization of this fact, and her acceptance of it, drove her over the edge, her hips suddenly developing a mind of their own, gyrating wildly on Jake's cock, juices seeping from her cunt and down onto his balls while spit leaked past the seal of her lips while she moaned on Duane's cock. Nearly faint with pleasure, she fell onto Jake, gripping his shoulders as she focused on the spasms in her pussy. Finally she rolled off and fell to the floor on her back, knees up, her chest heaving, her knees twitching open and closed.

In her state, she was only mildly aware of Jake getting off the cot or of Duane bending to one knee and scooping her up. Her head dangled off the edge closest to Jake as Duane laid her across the narrow platform. Her mouth hung open and she was barely aware of her legs being spread wide, gentle but powerful hands pushing her knees back. And then something entered her, withdrew and returned. She raised her head and saw Duane looking at her kindly as his cock filled her cunt once again. Above her, Jake's hands cupped and squeezed her tits, his cock dangling only inches from her mouth. She let her head hang back again and opened wide, reaching a hand back to grip his firm ass and pulled that cock deep into her welcoming throat.

She lay there as they fucked her, totally spent, every nerve in her body vibrating like a guitar string. She couldn't tell if she was cumming over and over again as Duane pounded her pussy, or if she was still cumming from fucking Jake. Ultimately, she decided, it mattered not at all as long as the bliss didn't end. Her mind began to wander, randomly focusing her attention on her cunt and mouth. She wondered how Jake's cum would taste different from Duane's.

Jake started grunting, his hands squeezing her tits harder. She relaxed her throat, letting him thrust as hard as he needed to. She knew what was coming but Jake announced it anyway: "Oh shit! I'm cumming!! I'm cum--AHHHhhh...."

Cum filled her throat and she gagged a little until she was able to swallow, only to receive another shot of goodness. Warmth filled her pussy as Duane cried out and buried himself as deep as he could, grinding his pelvis against her clit, his cock jerking inside her, filling her vault with his deposit. Over and over again. While she swallowed all of Jake's offering, there really wasn't anywhere for Duane's seed to go and she felt some start to leak out of her. Surprising considering that he'd already cum once.

Jake was finished, falling back to the floor, so Heather pulled away from Duane, slid off the cot onto her knees and pushed him back with one hand while the other grabbed his dick and milked the last of his load into her hungry mouth. She didn't stop until her tongue had returned his cock to pristine cleanliness.

Duane stroked her hair while she milked him dry, "I'm not going to say I regret one second of what happened here tonight, but we really didn't have this in mind when I came out to get you."

Heather held up her hands weakly in a "ta da" gesture and said, "Surprise. Nobody expected that. That's what made it so fun." She pointed an accusing finger at him, "It was your fault. If you hadn't made me cum--" she put a hand to her mouth and looked over her shoulder at Jake "--Jake, poor baby, you only got to cum once."

"I'm good," Jake said, waving her off, "for now. You can make it up to me later."

Heather laid down on the floor with a contented smile, "Deal."

"So what now," Duane asked.

Heather knitted her eyebrows together in thought, "I'm not sure. I've never had two boyfriends at the same time. At least not that knew about each other. Or saw me fuck the other guy while we knew about it."

Duane laughed, "Boyfriends?"

"Well yeah," Heather said, propping herself up on her elbows, "I don't fuck ‘just friends'. That whole ‘friends with benefits' thing is bullshit. And I don't believe in ‘fuck buddies'. Like it or not, how ever long this lasts, even if it's just this week, we three are boyfriends/girlfriend."

"So this is going to happen again," Jake said hopefully.

"Absolutely," Heather sighed, "I've never felt so good in my life. So maybe to pay for my staying in this tent, I keep it tidy and satisfy you guy's every need."

"Every need," Duane said.

"Let's put it this way, after how I feel tonight, I'll go commando. If one of you needs a warm, wet place to put your cock, just bend me over and pull down my pants. And of course we'll play poker every night."

"For what," Jake asked. "What do you have left to bet?"

The room got silent for a moment as the only answer to the question dawned in Heather's eyes, which went wide. She pointed a finger at both of them with a stern look on her face, "You two get that thought right out of your heads."

"I really like your ass, Heather," Duane said simply.

Her finger moved to Jake as she spoke to Duane, "He's thicker than you! That thing would split me in half! How do I let you fuck me there and not him?"

"Maybe after he's opened you up," Jake suggested helpfully.

"Or maybe me in your ass and Jake in your pussy," Duane added, picking up the thought. "Have you ever done that?"

"It's never been an option before I met you two," Heather grumbled, disturbed that the idea didn't bother her as much as she thought it should. She looked at Jake, "You have no idea how big you are." She shook her head, her hair flying around her, "I can't talk about this right now, I'm way too tired and--fucked out. The hike, the poker, the tent, the sex. I need to sleep."

"Okay," Duane said, getting up and going over to his side of the tent. He rummaged in his pack and pulled out two articles that he tossed to Heather, "They may be big but we have some rope you can use for a belt and they'll at least keep you warm."

Heather struggled to her feet and held the sweatpants against her front. They would definitely require a belt. "How sweet," she said, dropping the pants but pulling on the top. "Maybe tomorrow for the pants. For tonight though, I have another idea. Can we bring that other cot over here and put them together?"

"No problem," Jake said.

Once he had them butted up against each other, Heather placed her sleeping pad over the frame. Then she unzipped her sleeping bag and spread this over the pad. She stretched out on the bed and checked out her work. She could still feel the bars running her length but thought she could live with it. She looked at her two men and patted the cot on either side of her, "It'll be cozy, but I think it will work."

Duane and Jake looked at each other and Duane shrugged, "Well, the shared body heat under a blanket should keep things toasty."

"I tend to move some when I sleep," Jake said.

"As long as you don't fart," Heather said through a yawn. "Come on, grab a blanket and get in here." Her eyes closed and she stretched, "I'm fading fast."

Awareness slipped away, she was barely conscious of the men covering her and sliding under the cover. Her mind began to wander toward sleep, a smile spreading across her lips at being freshly and well fucked by her two new boyfriends. Then the thought crossed her fading faculties: Well fucked, but not totally. Her smile faded as an image of her pinned between the two men filled her mind and then returned when curiosity about how that might feel took over. Her final thought before blackness claimed her was, Maybe tomorrow.

Endsit?