Chapter 73 -- Trail's End
We transited into Maine -- the last state north on the Appalachian Trail. The end was in sight, but we still had over 150 to 175 miles to go. The four of us stayed overnight at the Grafton Notch campground. We had a lot of company, but that didn't deter four horny hikers.
We again put our tents very close together at the edge of the tenting area. I fucked Lexi, and Andy fucked the stuffing out of Crystal. We slept like babies cradling the naked and satisfied bodies of our wives.
Two days later, the four of us hitchhiked into the small town of Rangeley, Maine. This was one of my mail drops. Crystal had added to my package with some of her own consumable products, so after we found the post office, we split up the package and repacked our backpacks. There was a store there that had everything a hiker might need, so Lexi and Andy replenished the rest of their stocks needed to complete the journey.
I got the four of us a large room at the Saddleback Motor Inn that had two king-size beds in it. We had lunch at a place named the Red Onion. Crystal and I split a pizza. I realized I hadn't had that delicacy for almost four months. Previously, that had been a weekly staple in my diet.
Crystal and I challenged Andy and Lexi to get out of the sexual comfort zones. That night, back in the room in the very quiet motel, we took them through some new experiences.
First, we got them both to try anal sex. Neither had done that. I lubed up Lexi and gently initiated her into the world of broad-thinking sluts that loved to have their ass pummeled by a big cock.
Lexi came and came again. Apparently, she had some erogenous zones in or around that area of her anatomy, and I hit those the right way. I also fingered her clit and even fingered her pussy as my cock see-sawed in her butt.
On the other bed, Andy slid into Crystal's poop shoot -- any ass -- for the first time. She liked it and that was part of our routine when we messed around, especially when she could capture two males.
Those new experiences led to the next adventure -- being DPed, or experiencing a double penetration: a cock in the ass and a cock in the cunt.
Andy and I showed Lexi what that looked like with Crystal first. The obvious orgasms Crystal had helped woo the other female in our midst into also trying the act.
I'd already been in Lexi's ass, so I insisted that he try anal sex with his own wife, but I positioned the two of them so that I could also have access to her unfilled pussy.
After they seemed used to the anal penetration and movement, I pushed into Lexi's cunt as far as I could go. I then started long strokes into her body.
Crystal got beside the three of us and got her hand near Lexi's clit, and started rubbing. Lexi started to fly apart in tiny little pieces, many of which were hurled deep into outer space from the orgasms and great feelings. We did that twice to Lexi before we collapsed and went to sleep.
The next morning, Lexi didn't want to move around too much. For some strange reason, she had a sore butt. We hung around the town all day. There were only a few shops, restaurants, no stop lights, and almost no stop signs that we could see. The official population of the town was 1,000, but over the summer many others came up to their camps on various nearby lakes and probably multiplied many times the resident population.
Andy and I did some careful planning over the remainder of the hike to Katahdin Mountain in the center of the state. We checked the changes in elevation, and looked for campgrounds or other lodging that preferably had shelters and water.
I asked him whether either he or Lexi wanted to taper back on the swapping we'd been doing with them, and he emphatically said, "Absolutely not. We love it. We haven't been so sexually aroused or horny in our lives. We love you guys and what we do together. I think Lexi wants to pass on anal sex the rest of the trip, but she told me that she would do it more often once we didn't need to hike the next day or two."
Crystal and I had told them about our sex parties in Florida, even emphasizing the romantic and loving nature of the gatherings. Andy confided that he was already of thinking of how they could relocate to that part of the world so that they could be close to us and participate as part of our group. He asked me bluntly if that was foolish thinking. "Do you think we're crazy picking up and moving to be in the atmosphere of what you've described? We want to be friends with you and your friends, but is that even realistic?"
"No, I don't think it's crazy, but I think you should take it slow in case the situation is not to your overall liking. Much of what you will become involved in will be based on personal relationships and friendships. You need to meet the other people in our social circle. This will be your core social group, plus any neighbors, work colleagues, or others that you befriend on your own.
"Thus, I suggest that you come down on a trial visit. Make it span two weekends -- two Saturdays. In between, you can check out the job market and the housing situation. You can stay with us, but you'll need a rental car, at least for the week. The whole area relies on autos to get around."
Andy said, "I'm sure that we'll do that soon. Is there a bad time or better time, and thank you for your hospitality ahead of time.?"
We had a long and serious discussion about relocating to Sarasota.
The Appalachian Mountain Club was sadistic about the route the trail took from the Sandy River-Saddleback area to Mount Katahdin. The mountain was pretty much north east of us. Instead, we'd hike south, west, a little north, a little east, and then wrap around a lake, and repeat often. We wound around far more than necessary to take a more or less straight hike to Katahdin. On the other hand, we saw some beautiful scenery that I'll never forget.
The last eighty miles was rarely flat, especially as we got near Mount Katahdin. We pushed trying to maintain fifteen miles a day, but one or two days that was hard to do given the terrain. A couple of times we dropped in the middle of the trail from fatigue, set up our tents to the side and rested for the night. There were enough brooks and streams that we could always have running water. We had purification tablets and boiled the water occasionally, but none of it was suspect.
The last night before we reached the peak, we stayed at the Katahdin Stream campground. With about thirty other campers. The place was so crowded that we just passed on having sex. We were bone tired anyway; it had been an eighteen-mile day.
The next day, a sunny Thursday in mid-September, we hiked to the peak. We left most of our gear at the campground because we'd come back to camp again that night.
The rocky peak had a spectacular view for hundreds of miles in every direction. I took about two-hundred pictures.
More than that, I cried. I sobbed.
I'd done it. I'd finished the entire Appalachian Trail from south to north.
Yes, I sat at top of a mile-high peak and I cried. Crystal hugged me. Having been with me for a couple of hundred miles, she understood the pressure that builds up. She knew how emotionally involved I was with this journey and with the result. I had hiked to find out about the rest of my life.
I'd hiked almost nonstop from Georgia to the middle of Maine. I'd pushed myself to my limits physically many times. I'd lost twenty pounds and those that remained had changed from flab to muscle.
I had accomplished what only an estimated 500 people a year do. I belonged to a unique brotherhood and sisterhood of stalwart hikers that did the whole trail in one gulp.
