I smile as I step out of the car, my boots crunching against the gravel beneath my feet. It’s one of those perfect spring days – the sun shining brightly through the crisp, cool air, a bit of breeze carrying that intoxicating earthy, damp smell of the season. My smile broadens as I remember that quote from Miss Congeniality: the “perfect date” was April 25th, because “it’s not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.” I guess I am a cliché, but I can’t help it. I love Spring. New life emerging from the cold, dark winter. Birds singing, flowers blooming. All that pent-up energy finally finding release.
I know I should probably take a minute to enjoy the sunshine and the birdsong, but I’m too impatient. It’s my first hike of the new season and my own pent up energy has me itching to be on the trail. There will be plenty of time to relax on the summit, I tell myself as I shrug my backpack over my own light jacket and cinch down the waist belt and chest strap so that it fits snugly against my body. The weight rests reassuringly on my shoulders and the curve of my hips as I step out of the sunshine and onto the dark, tree-lined trail. There was only one other car in the parking lot today and I’m looking forward to the solitude. I chose this mountain because it tends not to draw crowds; it’s off the beaten path and while there’s a decent view at the top, it doesn’t offer the sweeping panoramics that can be found on nearby summits.
As I settle into my pace, my body begins to relax. The tension of normal life flowing out of my neck and shoulders with each long stride. The swing of my hips and arms setting a rhythm for my wandering thoughts. This part of the trail is smooth, the ascent gradual and I let my eyes drift to the trees around me, admiring the darting colors of the birds as they flit through the grey, bare branches whose leaves are just beginning to bud. It’s been a stressful week and the sights, smells, and sounds of the forest around me are rejuvenating.
Before long, the trail steepens, smooth dirt giving way to rocks still slick with snow melt and I feel my heart rate picking up. I stop to strip out of my jacket and take a sip of water. The cool liquid moistening my dry lips as it floods my mouth. I shiver a bit as the breeze, stronger at the higher altitude, rushes over my skin, raising goose bumps and making the light hairs on my arms stand on end. It’s an invigorating feeling and I pull my tank top off over my head, wanting to feel the cool air against the rest of my flushed body. My nipples harden with the abrupt change in temperature and I can see two bumps pressing through the pink fabric of my sports bra. I smile and swing my backpack over my shoulders once again, adjusting the chest strap so that it lies across my sensitive buds.
I set off again, each step causing the chest strap to press and slide across my nipples, the sensation causing my thoughts to move in a completely new direction. The tempo of my strides that had lulled me before, now teases me. I’m acutely aware of my body: my pounding heart, the sweat from my exertion, the chill breeze over my skin, and the growing dampness between my thighs. I’m aching to touch myself, but hold off. I want to summit, to lie on the sun-baked rocks and truly enjoy this first springtime hike. I pick up my pace, eager to reach my goal but only succeed in increasing the teasing sensations running rampant through my body.
My world narrows to the rocky path before me and my growing need, each step an exquisite torture of anticipation. Before long, I feel the sun on my exposed back, my first indication that I’m nearing the summit. I look up and pause momentarily as I take in the view – a clear blue sky over miles and miles of mountains, some still tipped with snow. I smile and walk out onto the bare rock of the exposed peak, drinking in the site and savoring the warmth of the sun alternating with the chill of the breeze on my sensitized skin.
I slide my backpack off, my knuckles brushing teasingly against my breasts as I undo the chest strap and settle myself down on the sun-baked rocks, their heat quickly seeping through my black, running tights, warming my ass. I slip my sweat-damp sports bra off, gasping as the breeze plays over my hard, exposed nipples. Smiling, I take my time laying the bra on the rocks to dry before leaning back against my pack. Letting my anticipation grow even more. I close my eyes and slowly, slowly let my fingers trail lightly down over my belly, then along the waistband of my tights.