Authenticity In The Woods by Doc

Authenticity in the Woods

Bill put his backpack on and headed down the path from his home – his ‘wood tent’ as he referred to it a bit sarcastically.  His act was both real and symbolic.  In short it was meaningful.

He was tired of the fear, the trivia, the pettiness and the polite bullshit.  He was a bit anxious, but he was used to coping with that annoyance.  Action, any action, quieted the ‘monkey in his head’.  The rhythm of his pace and the slow unrolling of passing scenes were his clock, even better than the numbers rolling through his mind when he worked out at the gym.

Karen was waiting at the bend past the pond, sitting on a log staring at beavers swimming in the water.

  “Hiya,” he said.  She looked up, smiled, and simply gestured at a nearby log.  He sat down.  She said nothing, turning her gaze back at the water.  The sunlight spotted the water with dark blobs.

He sat, waiting for her.  The minutes ticked by.  Finally she rose and smiled reassuringly at him.  “Let’s go,” she said.  Her voice made him feel light; she was radiating something both mysterious and very pleasant.  He decided it was her personality.  What else could it be?
They walked in silence for a long time, her in front, him following.  He knew she wouldn’t have any problem with him staring at her, though his eyes kept returning to her backside and her rolling hips.  He was male.  She was female.  They agreed that accepting and embracing that difference was more than OK.  It was great.

Finally she paused.  “We’ll have lunch here.” The both laid their backpacks on the ground. He looked around.  The tall pines shaded the spot, a bit mysterious.  Fortunately the sky, visible straight up, was blue.  Bill hated rain, though he knew it was all part of the great cosmic wheel of necessity.

“What are you looking at, Bill?” she asked.

“The sky…”, he replied.  It was the truth.

“I want you to look at me.”  Karen took off her hiking shirt.  Bill thought, “Hmmm… sports bra.”  Then she removed that.  His gaze fixated on her nipples.  Then she pulled down her shorts.  Nothing underneath.

“You need to please me, Bill,” she stated calmly – but with a trace of a smile playing around her face.  She was wearing no makeup.  That made Bill feel good.  He was tired of bullshit.

“I know”, he replied.  “My job is to perform.”  She nodded.  He knelt down on the dirt and pine needles.  He small pebbles hurt a bit.

She spread her legs, lifted up her water bladder, and took a long, deep drink from it.  She then stared at him, directly in the eyes.

“Now, Bill.”  And he moved to satisfy her.

There was no fear, or bullshit, or trivia, or pettiness within miles and miles.  They both had needs.  Hers came first.  She was a lady and would satisfy his – after she was satisfied.  This was how they connected.  Her wishes came first; his were subordinate.

They were far from civilization.  They both liked that.  They could now be real.  

Bill performed.  He knew what she liked.