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Chapter 69 — Mr. Bear and Kitty
We were descending from the ridgeline we’d been following for two days when Maggie broke her leg. We were all hot a sticky and were tired. We were coming down a slope after a morning shower had dampened our spirits, she started to slip, did a foot plant, and crack — a fall and broken leg. If she hadn’t been carrying a thirty-five-pound backpack, she might have just slid along the ground for a few feet.
Fortunately, I had cellphone reception and I had the GPS coordinates for where we were on the trail. I could also see that we were going to cross some fifth-rated road in about a mile. We were northwest of Ashville by about forty miles.
Helen and I did the whole first aid thing. We immobilized the leg. I could feel the break inside her calf. She cried more at having to stop the hike and lose touch with me than from the injury. I assured her that we’d see each other again.
Two paramedics found us over two hours later. They had a stretcher, and the four of us gradually got Maggie off the mountain and further down the trail where it crossed the North Carolina dirt road with many digits to its name. It was a very small dirt road, but the ambulance executed a turnaround, and we rode out.
They allowed Helen and I to ride into the nearby town of Hot Springs in the back where I got out. I kissed them goodbye, and was alone again. Helen stayed with her friend. They were going to Ashville. We’d exchanged all sorts of contact information with each other.
Based on the recommendation of one of the EMTs, I checked into the Laughing Heart Lodge. The place was very pleasant and rustic. Even better, there was a diner just down the street. I could get a shower and a complete meal without worrying about preparing a freeze-dried meal. I also had a real bed. All the comforts of home, except I’d lost my female companionship.
After cleaning up, I sat in an Adirondack chair on the front lawn of the lodge, staring off into space. I’d bought myself a bottle of wine and I had a slight buzz going. My trip was symbolic, I thought. I’d pretty well checked out of Cyber Solutions and was headed for something else.
I missed my family and friends. I knew I wanted to return to those and pick-up from where I left off. Leaving them seemed so long ago. I’d exchanged a few texts with Crystal each day. The agreement we had was that she’d share my noteworthy news with the others.
I also had an app on my phone so that anyone in our group could track my whereabouts. I was sure I was being spied on several times a day and that was all right. I did have to be in cellphone range.
Crystal, Carol, Elynn, Jean, and the others were my love interests. They were ultimately important to me to the extreme. I wondered if the loss of my mother at such a critical age played into my unquenchable need to be loved. It didn’t matter, I had that need and they and my friends filled it.
I had a slash of guilt about Jean and little Matthew — our new baby, just over a month old. I wanted kids and to be a father, but I needed to be interacting with a young mind in some way. I knew that when my son got older that we’d have a fabulous interaction on so many levels. I wanted more children, too. Parenthood was important to me.
Many people work to accumulate wealth. I guess I’d been in the right place at the right time, plus one of my mentors, Kim Stanley, had thrown me a bone, namely to become the CEO of Cyber Solutions. She’d challenged me to grow the business and provided the funds to do it. I provided the horsepower and worried every detail as they happened. I’d built a technology empire of sorts, and then we’d taken it public. In the IPO, I’d made millions — hundreds of millions. The public liked us and made us rich — made me rich. Kim moved well into the realm of being a billionaire. Money was not a motivator or worry for me any longer. Still, I was restless.
I liked giving to others. The whole situation with the Satanic Virus hurled me into the public eye, but I didn’t care as much about the fame as I did that I’d directly helped millions of people retain their important assets, even as markets around the world started to crash. I still liked the idea of ‘giving back’ to society in some way. I also liked the feel of being the expert — expert enough in that situation to solve a potentially devastating situation.
While I had many people reporting to me or under me at Cyber Solutions, I was not power happy the way some of our politicians are — even enough to lie through their teeth to keep their position of power. I was not power happy. I wanted to help the people that worked for me so that they could do a better job.
I thought about some other broad areas that motivate people, but everything else seemed to be irrelevant. I wasn’t a self-help junkie, didn’t care too much about fame or prestige, didn’t need to be widely influential, or feel a dedication to some higher calling like a soldier or priest might. I escort vip did like being free to develop my own ideas — my creativity. Where did that leave me?
I took another sip of the expensive wine I’d bought and watched the first stars pop out of the sky.
I arranged through the lodge to have an immense bouquet of flowers sent to Maggie’s hospital room. I had talked to Helen and gotten a report that they were going to keep Maggie at least two nights for observation. The break had been rated as severe. She’d actually required surgery to put in a steel rod and various pins to piece things back together in her lower leg. Her parents were flying in from Pennsylvania to help. Helen was going back with them.
I arranged and informed Helen that ‘my’ corporate jet and various limousines would be waiting to drive and fly them home or anyplace they wanted to go when Mag was ready to travel. She cried with relief and being able to move her friend without the hassle of public conveyance. I texted the information to make all that happen to Barbie and she told me to consider it all done.
Hot Springs was my first mail drop. The next morning after packing up, I walked through the small town to the post office and got my General Delivery parcel — more food, new socks, a bunch of envelopes with love letters in them from my admirers at home — I was to open a different one each day or whenever I felt sad. There was even a throwaway flask with some wine in it. I packed all that into my back pack and headed for the French Broad River and the Lover’s Leap Hiking Trail that connected with the AT just across the river.
I shifted into high gear and began my trek up the switchbacks up to the ridgeline for the next set of hills and soon Tennessee — but that was still a few days away.
The weather was kind and the trail well trekked. There were other hikers headed north, and I tagged along behind their pack. We acknowledged each other, but didn’t really talk. They had an aggressive pace and I liked that. I stayed with them for four days, until we were just over the line from North Carolina into Tennessee.
Each letter that Crystal slipped into my mail drop came from one of my lovers. They made me laugh and cry. Some were long and full of details, and some were short. Everyone showed me that I was loved and missed.
I added some hustle to my trek. I got up exceptionally early the next morning, at first light. I got in twelve steady hours. I realized that my legs had strengthened considerably since I started. They didn’t feel so fatigued, especially on the climbs. I also noticed that I’d lost my sense of time, at least on a calendar basis. I didn’t know what day of the week it was.
I realized that I still liked my creature comforts. At various points along the trail, I could get to comfortable lodging and even find locales with restaurants. I took the bait every time. I made it through the Unaka Mountain Range between North Carolina into Tennessee — part of Blue Ridge Mountains. I came to vista after vista and was impressed every time. So far on the trip, I’d taken over a thousand pictures. Every now and then, I’d forge a stream, often with a waterfall or cascade nearby.
A couple of days later, I started a list of things I really liked or even might like to do. I was still searching for the key to my ‘Next Big Thing’, as Kim called it. After three days of hiking my list had the following items:
• Crystal, Carol, Jean, Elynn, Everybody I love
• Sex — cavorting with friends (esp. pretty women)
• Adult videos — private porn/public porn
• Flying (?) — latent interest
• Martial arts
• Mentoring people — Helping them succeed
• Learning new things, especially technical
• Computers and networks (tech stuff)
• Hiking (maybe not 2,000 miles)
• Solve tech problems no one else can
I thought about each item and tested whether I wanted it on my long-term list of things I like to do. I had really gotten into the hiking as I progressed north on the Appalachian Trail. I did find some relief to stop, but even on the crappy days when it was chilly and rainy, I didn’t mind my forward progress towards the middle of the state of Maine.
This list also reflected my technical background and deep-seated desire to have some technical roots.
I met my first bear in Tennessee. Well, one that wasn’t in a zoo. I was alone hiking down a narrow trail, the footing was good, and I was taking large steps. Suddenly, about fifty yards ahead I saw a big black fuzzy rock. The fuzzy rock was ambling down the same trail that I was on and I was coming up on the walking fuzzy rock pretty quickly.
I stopped, and the moving fuzzy rock kept going, but did look back at me. Mr. Bear then turned off the trail and went up the hill to my left side. I didn’t want to appear threatening lest I spark a defensive attack when none was needed. I backed away about a hundred feet from where I’d been even after escort rus Mr. Bear disappeared. I did get a quick photograph of the departing creature, but he’d probably only appear as a large fuzzy black rock. I also rummaged around in the side pocket of my back pack and got out my bear spray.
I waited ten more minutes, and also during that time started playing some music on my iPhone to make some noise — peaceful classical music. I almost tiptoed down the path after Mr. Bear disappeared, being especially vigilant about whether he (or she) were still lingering around the area.
The bear really gave me a fright. I actually wondered whether I, or anybody, could use karate on a bear. I doubted that would be a successful venture. Do you bow to a bear before and after sparring?
I was averaging eighteen miles a day, but some days the hike, especially in steep mountainous areas, would be less than ten, and on another I’d roll through twenty-five miles on relatively level ground. I didn’t count a few days that I just got some lodging and waited out some really bad weather.
Another hiker had told me that the mid-point on the AT was the Mason-Dixon Line. The boundary, in part the dividing line between Maryland and Pennsylvania, came to symbolize the line between the slave states in the south, and the free-soil states north of it.
I had a small celebration. I’d hiked just over a thousand miles in ten weeks — two-and-a-half months. The next day, I trekked into Pennsylvania and also met Kitty Privalova. Kitty — a contraction for Katarinia, her given Russian first name — was sweet girl hiking alone. I pointed out that hiking alone might be an ill-advised decision. More than one girl has disappeared while hiking the AT and never been seen again.
Kitty might have just weighed in at a hundred pounds. She was a bottle blonde, and, as it turned out, had been in the Russian Army and was an expert in martial arts. She had the equivalent of a black belt in karate. I bowed to her with my lowly and new blue belt. She laughed.
“What are you doing in America hiking the Appalachian Trail?” I asked as we started out one morning and she started to pace me.
“Amerika my new home country.” She pronounced it ‘Am-er-ick-ah’. “I move here from Russia. Too many bad boyfriends drink too much vodka and I get abused. I not like that. So, I come here.”
“That happens in this country, too, I’m afraid. You need to pick better boyfriends.”
“You be my boyfriend?” she teased.
“I can try, but I have many complicated situations that you, as my new girlfriend, should be aware of.”
Just then we met another group of hikers coming the other direction. In front of us was also the midpoint market for the AT. My guidebook showed we were at mile 1,093.2. We talked to the southbound hikers for a few minutes about shelters and stops we’d both seen near that point. The young men were from near Harrisburg. We pushed on north from there.
We hadn’t gotten very far when Kitten asked me what my complicated situation was.
I laughed because I could guess her reaction, especially coming from Russia. I outlined to her about my two wives, my two fiancées, and the other women that I loved. I then explained about our philosophy about being able to love more than one person, and our open marriages and relationships.
Kitty was very silent for well over a mile. She said, “No person gets jealous?”
I said, “No one gets jealous, no.” I told her about compersion and gave some examples. One example was about Crystal’s behavior while I was taking this long hike along the AT.
She said, “So, your primary wife make love with other men, while you here on trail alone?”
I nodded, “Yes, and I want her to be happy and feel loved.”
“What if she falls in love with other man?”
“That could happen whether I’m at home or not. I love her, and want her to be happy. I love her so much that if her happiness is with another person, then I will help to make that happen for her. I thought of my relationship with Tara, and told Kitty how she’d fallen for another guy beside me.
“If Crystal — or my other lovers — still love me and they love some new man or woman, then I will continue to love them and be sure they have the time and availability to be with who they love. They’d do the same for me.”
There was silence for another mile. We were making good progress. We also crossed several state roads.
I told her, “When we get to U.S. 11, the Carlisle Pike, I’m deviating slightly to stay overnight in a motel. The weather tonight forecasts rain, and I thought I’d be kind to myself. If you want, I’ll also get you a room there, and tomorrow, we can start trekking again.”
After a shorter silence, Kitty said, “Okay. I do that. Good bed nice, especially if there’s rain.”
A few minutes later, she asked, “Wives and other girlfriends not get mad if you make love with other woman?”
I shook my head. “Not a bit. If I like escort elit her, they would hope that I would bring her home with me to meet them. In any case, they would ask about her, but not be angry at all.” I laughed, “They would want lots of details about the woman.”
“Details, such as?”
I could barely talk I was smiling so broadly at the conversation. “They would want a detailed description of the girl — physical and about her personality, and then they would want pictures or even a video. They would then want to know exactly what I thought of her at each stage in our relationship as it developed up to that point.
“They would want to know her mannerisms and quirks. They would want to know about how she made love with me, and whether she liked various things that I did to her — things that they like to do. They would want to know, if I knew, whether she liked other women or whether she was purely heterosexual.”
“I not know that term.”
“Heterosexual means only being a person of the opposite sex to make love.”
“Those are details that they want?” Her Slavic accent was very evident in her questions.
“They’d ask lots of questions. They might also want to talk to the woman, even if only on the phone to assure her that she chose wisely in being with me. I’ve had that conversation with some of the men my wives have befriended that were unsure about making love with them because they are married to me.”
We skittered down a long slope rather than following a longer traversing path. Soon enough, we got to the Harrisburg Pike in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. I could look down the road a quarter mile or so and see the sign for a Quality Inn. I pointed. There’s our target with nice beds and showers.”
Kitty grinned at me and took off in that direction before I did.
At the check-in desk, I asked for two rooms. Kitty was beside me.
Kitty tapped me on the shoulder really firmly. I turned. She said, “Only need one room. I be with you.”
The clerk raised both eyebrows and looked at me. I corrected my earlier request, “One room. King bed, please.”
In the room, I chose one corner for my backpack and some unpacking, and Kitty took another. I stripped down somewhat to prepare for a shave and shower. Kitty was still arranging and rearranging things from her pack.
I said, “I’m going to shave and shower and then you can take your shower.”
She raised one hand with an up-raised thumb, seemingly proud that she knew the gesture for approval.
I went into the bath and stripped down. I then shaved, this time getting rid of a four-day growth. The longer between shaves, the more painful the shave. I finished, cleaned up the bowl and then started the shower. I got naked, and stepped into the luxuriously warm water. I just let the water pour over my sore body for a minute before contemplating actually getting soap and shampoo.
The shower curtain behind me got pulled open and a very naked Kitty stepped into the tub with me. She smiled and then inched around me so that she could be under the water. She was almost a whole head shorter than I was.
Kitty said, “You wash me, and I wash you. Very nice arrangement.” She handed me the small bar of soap the hotel provided.
Kitty had a hard body. I realized that all the thru-hikers probably did. One couldn’t carry a thirty-five-pound backpack and hike for fifteen or twenty miles a day and not get a hard body, especially if you were only about five feet tall. She had muscles, but wasn’t muscle-bound.
As I soaped, I changed into massage mode, working especially on her shoulder, arm, and upper-back muscles. Kitty made little sounds of joy and actually purred. I turned her around and did her pecs, without toying too much with her generous pert breasts. I was sure she pressed her breasts into my hands. I was not going to presume anything further.
Eventually, Kitty picked up the soap and started in on me. She had to have me squat to apply the shampoo and rinse, and then to massage my shoulders and other muscles. She worked her way down my body, and got to my erect cock. It wasn’t fully erect, only at the very interested stage.
Kitty took hold of me and gave me a good wash, and then did my legs. She gave me back the bar of soap and said, “You didn’t do those areas on me. Finish up.”
I did her ass first, polishing her little bubble butt before going down one leg and up the other leading me right into her pussy. I carefully massaged her labia and then made sure her clitoris was ultra clean.
As I finished, I raised Kitty’s face to mine just outside the spray, and I kissed her. Throwing a match into a swimming pool of gasoline couldn’t have produced more of a response. Kitty exploded into my arms and kissed back like civilization and her own life depending on getting her message across. She also grabbed hold of my cock and started fondling. I respond well to fondling.
We got out, got dry, and got on the bed in what seemed like seconds. I picked up Kitty and put her on top of me in the sixty-nine position. I wanted to taste her. I think she wanted to taste me, too, because I was almost entirely swallowed a second later. I don’t think she had a gag reflex.
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