Picnic - Sex Stories

Picnic

... cash and wished her good day. “A pleasure meeting you,” I said, turning to Kelly. “Hey, yeah,” she stumbled a little. “Hey, give me one minute.” She turned back to Louisa who counted out her money. She put the money in what was really a coin purse in the little handbag that was draped over her shoulder, both were tacky little affairs, hemp and embroidery. I thought to myself what a woman I could turn Kelly into given a little time and a decent budget from the generous people at the other end of her rather impressive money transfer. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” Kelly said as she joined me. “Sure,” I said, intrigued. “Would you mind giving me a ride back to my camp? I hiked down and I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend later but I really don’t want to hang around in town all day.” “I’d be happy to.” I looked at the time. “I tell you what, let’s pick up a few things and we’ll make a picnic of it.” “Cool,” she enthused and smiled again, this time honestly and warmly. We settled on chips and sandwiches from the deli, as well as hummus and a couple of dips, but the strawberries were just coming into season and passing them in the vegetable aisle, I couldn’t resist. I knew precisely what would go with them and bought a bottle of Krug rosé, a bottle of wine and a six pack of beer at the liquor store on our way out. We made our way up the old logging road that ran a serpentine course into the mountains at the back of town. Kelly cracked a couple of beers and we chatted ...

... about the East Coast versus the west, about New York City and pointed out wildlife and spectacular scenery to each other. About thirty minutes up, Kelly pointed that I should turn on to a rocky track. The narrow road followed a creek and then ended in a meadow that opened up to the forest and peaks towering all around. “This is me,” Kelly said. The campsite was next to the creek at the edge of the meadow. I parked the car and we carried our lunch to the little village Kelly and her friends had made for themselves. The day was glorious, bright sun shining in a cloudless sky, the green of the forest and the high alpine meadows playing in the impossible blue. The sun was warm but tempered by a cool breeze blowing gently from the west. “I’m hungry,” I said. “Me too,” Kelly agreed and she sat down in one of the hammocks they had strung between two spruce trees. I sat down next to her and we unwrapped our sandwiches. I uncorked a bottle of wine, a dry Provençal rosé that seemed to me the perfect accompaniment to the day, if not the sandwiches. It was rather uncomfortable and awkward sitting there jammed together on the hammock. I could feel the warmth of Kelly’s skin through my pants. “I haven’t been in a hammock in a while,” I said. “Are they more comfortable if you actually get in them?” “Much,” she laughed, her mouth filled with sandwich. I stood up and she took off her sandals and climbed in. I moved the tree stump Kelly and her friends had been using as a table closer and put ...