We went hiking with the Kinky Hikers recently, and I found the perfect Scavenger Hunt: Scenic Overlook.
The overlook is about halfway along the 6 mile hike we took. It’s a trail I am familiar with and have always enjoyed; with a lot of elevation changes, it’s one I have used as a conditioning trail for both my Grand Canyon backpacking trips.
I’d also done a lot of Scavenger Hunts in the area in my days with W; not at Pere Marquette State Park, where this overlook is, but in the area. We’d stayed in a cabin once and hiked up a creek for Rope on the Run pictures, and got several Scavenger Hunts along the River Road, at the confluence of the Missouri and Illinois Rivers, at the docks and at a local bar. They are happy memories for me, and it’s fun to experience these places anew with K, to add happy memories of he and I on top of them.
There was another Scavenger Hunt that I wanted and that we tried to get, ferry – but it was too busy and there wasn’t any way to snap a naughty pic without getting caught.
K decided to make it memorable another way.
Our car was first on the ferry that crossed the Mississippi River from Illinois. Several cars pulled up behind us. When a large truck pulled on next to us, K looked disappointed. “Too bad someone’s in that back seat and can look right down into the car,” he said. “I was thinking of making this ferry ride real interesting.”
I gave him a sly look, knowing where he was going. “Too bad we don’t have a blanket like I do in my car,” I said, feeling sassy.
“Oh yeah?” he said, leaning towards me. “You think that’ll save you?”
“Hey, you said – “ I started, then gasped as he reached over and grabbed my pussy right at the top, in the fleshy part. I yelped as he pinched.
“Hey!” I said again, “Pussies are for fun, not for hurting!” He laughed and kept the pressure up, pinching harder as I gasped and writhed. But the truth if it was I could already feel the heat pulsing between my legs. I wanted him to hurt me, I wanted the torment. He’d already made me cum just moments before as we waited for the ferry to arrive, stroking me sweetly through my leggings until I moaned into his shoulder, and then again when he had taken his hand away and I had pouted at him, wanting more. The second time he’d pinched my thigh tho, and told me to cum through the pain.
This time, he made me cum because of the pain.
I don’t know of a better way to describe it. I was already aroused, yes, and damn it if him being stern and threatening doesn’t throw a happy switch in my brain and in my cunt, but usually it’s very much a “cumming in spite of” game. There is always some other pleasurable stimulus that is warring with the pain, and it goes back and forth and back and forth until finally, pleasure wins out. It’s a game I love and often ask for. But this was…different.
I lay back against the seat afterwards, panting.
“My brain doesn’t—“
“I can’t —“
I seek out those spaces when my brain just…stops. When I am overwhelmed by sensation or by another personality and…there’s just nothing. It all stops. Sub space, rope space, trance state. Orgasms that feel like they shatter my mind as well as my body.
I crave that.
I didn’t know what this was. My brain ricocheted as it went back and forth trying to make sense of orgasming while I shuddered with the bite of his fingers in my flesh and his words in my ear: “Cum NOW.”
“I don’t know how to process that,” I finally managed, “I don’t know what that was.”
He grinned over at me. “That was fun!” he said, echoing my earlier comment.
I couldn’t disagree.