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The beast of a man corrects his path so he isn't walking directly through your campsite, and nonchalantly answers as he passes. "Sorry, don't mind this old fucker and this young buck on my shoulder, just doing a little exploring and shooting for my next documentary on how to live off of the land in these fuckin' trees." He hocks up a loogie and continues walking and talking without altering his path or moving his neck. "New camerapussy here wasn't up to snuff. Passed out after hiking only, ehhhh, 23 miles, only carrying a 40-lb. bag. They don't make 'em like they used to. Anyway, you two lovebirds enjoy the wilderness," Jarronimo grins, "and be reeeaaal safe, there ain't no one else out here for miles that I saw. She's all your's." He pauses and shoots you a glance. "The mountains, that is, har har har!"
On the way out, he's talking to the unconscious man on his shoulder. "Terry, you awake? Hey, Terry!! I'm hungry! I want a tomahawk steak for dinner, especially after carryin' yer sorry keister outta here all the way from the summit. Yer payin', too!"
*<span class="mu-g">Krunch, krunch, k r u n c h.</span>*
Mandie recognized him, but didn't say anything to him about being your basement wench.
Was that her feminist programming telling her not to rely on a strong man to save her?
Or was that her basement strappado programming kicking in, telling her that she doesn't need to be saved to begin with?
You sit your chair next to Mandie's and cuddle up with her, silently enjoying each others' company while the flame <span class="mu-r">crackles</span> and <span class="mu-r">POPS</span>. The other two girls are still chained up and locked in your trunk. You clatter another log onto the fire, sending a plume of smoke to get choked out by the towering trees and cool, slow winds.
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After some badass forest sex (it actually kinda sucked, you had to stand, so your knees were a little wobbly, even though you posted your arms against the 'yak rack on top of the Continental), and cumming straight into a campfire for the first time ever, and recovering from the proceeding post-nut complications, you decide it's time for the other girls to experience the crisp, brisk air of the mountains on a late Autumn night.
You walk 5 feet and pop the no-longer rocking trunk. The girls have been fraternizing in position 69 ever since you left this afternoon. Duct tape, rope, tits, and hair fill your eyes like a glowing treasure chest, containing the most coveted booty known to mankind.
Two sleeping beauties in the trunk, and another splayed out and reclined in your passenger seat. What a spree you've been on.
