Chapter 7

Sam and I finally decided what our majors would be. She wanted to become a teacher (what else?) and I decided to get an accounting degree. The extra time in school for the both of us would be worth it in the long run. The next couple of years were filled with more time and trips together.

After our trip to Yosemite a few years earlier, we had done a couple of backpacking trips that were a blast. As always, our friendship was strong and getting stronger. The mutual touching and playfulness had not progressed to anything further. Always when one was willing to take that final step, the other seemed to not be ready. That worked well for both of us. Hey, we were best friends.

One trip to the backcountry was memorable. We had planned a trip to Canada with one of the outfitters advertised in Backpacker Magazine. We flew to Seattle, rented a car and drove to Vancouver. We stayed the night in a hotel, sharing a room as always. The room we had reserved was supposed to have two beds and, of course, the reservation was messed up giving us just one Queen-sized bed for the two of us to share.

Once we got over the inconvenience of the change in accommodations, we unpacked and headed for dinner. Sam was looking at me funny during the meal, and I suppose I should have picked up on her mood.

As soon as we got back to the room, Sam launched into me knocking me on the bed. I was flustered at the sudden playful attack. It was hard to wrestle with a 105-pound tiger. This tiger had plenty of muscle and very little fat to grab.

The wrestling match was brought to a sudden halt when Sam accidentally kneed me in the groin. I gave a yelp of surprise, and the pain automatically caused me to push away my playful attacker, knocking her to the floor. I curled into a ball on the bed and tried to catch my breath.

"Sam," I wheezed, "you nearly killed me that time. You have got to be careful and not be so rough with me. The family jewels cannot take the pounding you just gave me. I'm sure "Little Tom" was positively mortified at the assault. When, and if, I ever get to use him, he's going to be a very bashful little guy after tonight's trauma."

"Oh Tom, I can't believe I hurt you like that! I really feel bad about what happened. You have to forgive me; I really didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna draw you a bath and let you soak for awhile to try to recover."

I was not now, nor have I ever been, a bath kind of guy. OK, maybe when I was about 4 or 5 years old, but not since I found out about the joys of a shower. Sitting in dirty water is not my idea of relaxation. I would rather go without than to try and enjoy a bath. Something about the look on Sam's face stopped me from starting that tirade, though.

Instead, I said, "It's all right Sam, you can calm down. I'll let you get me into the bathtub, but I'm going to have to beg you to make the water real hot and make this bath fast. I'm really more of a shower kind of guy."

Sam got the bath started and helped me up off the bed. She helped me get out of the clothes I had on and ushered me into the bathroom. "Bubbles? I haven't had a bubble bath since Ronald Reagan's first term." I jokingly protested.

"Just get in and relax," she ordered. "I have always found that a nice soak in the tub calms me down and makes me feel better. No matter where I go I carry some bubbles, just in case the need arises."

I gently lowered myself into the steaming suds and tried to take her advice. I leaned back and let the heat of the tub do its thing.

A couple of minutes later I woke up from the little nap I hadn't planned. Sam was shaking my shoulder and telling me I was going to turn into a prune if I didn't get outta the tub.

"Sam I'm just recovering, per your instructions, and letting the soothing waters take away the pain. Would you let about half of the water out and put some more warm water in and I will wash up and get out?"

Sam did what I asked and left the bathroom, only to return a couple of minutes later fully undressed. "I'm gonna wash your back and generally give you a good scrubbing, so scoot forward and let me in."

I had not even thought of having an erection since before the "gonad massacre" began, but the thought of having a naked Sam in the tub with me was too good to be true. "Little Tom" started his deep breathing exercises while I moved forward to let Sam in. A soapy Sam washed my back gently with a washcloth and I leaned back into her as she reached around me to wash my front. She scrubbed me good and "accidentally" dropped the washcloth. "What do we have here? I am so glad that I didn't permanently damage your goodies earlier."

Sam gently fondled my cock until I was gasping for breath and hoping she wouldn't stop. My involuntary humping movements against the palm of her hand felt so good. In moments I erupted. We were within easy driving distance from Mount St. Helens, and the show I put on rivaled that one. My whole body became taut, and I came up out of the water enough that my sperm hit the opposite end of the bath enclosure. I pumped and pumped until I felt about two quarts low. The only difference between the volcano and me was that I hadn't lost the top of my head or the tip of my cock with this blowout.

The next thing I heard was giggling. Giggling? My thoughts instantly went back to a certain hot summer day with this same young lady at a gravel pit. "Sam, can we get rinsed off and go to bed? I am now officially and thoroughly exhausted."

I got my knees under me and stood up. I don't know about you, but getting up in a slippery bathtub takes a certain set of skills that I was lacking. After a near fall, I steadied myself on the shower door while Sam reached between my legs and let out the water. I reached down and helped her up and then drew her to me in a very soapy hug.

"Samantha, that was the most intense orgasm I have ever had. You have me so turned on that I could just jump all over you but, unfortunately, I am dog-tired and we have an early day ahead of us."

With that, I turned on the water, pulled the diverter pin to start the shower and started to rinse off. I noticed that the showerhead was one of those removable ones with the hose, so I grabbed it and finished rinsing myself and started to rinse Sam. She moaned a little when I moved the showerhead lower and rinsed all her cute, little naughty bits. I directed the spray right at her clit, and that set her off as she squealed. Her breathing starting coming in gasps as her release intensified. The sight of her toned body going through a massive orgasm just made the whole evening for me.

She pushed my hand and the nozzle away. "Enough. You trying to kill me or something?'

No not kill. Definitely something though.

"My Dear Miss Samantha," I finally broke the silence that accompanied our walk. "I was just remembering the bathroom scene in Vancouver. Do you realize just how close I came to jumping your bones that night?"

"'Why didn't you?" she asked, as she grabbed my arm and turned me to face her. "I would have gone for it that night. You were so hurt from my attack, and I was so sorry at the pain I had caused you that I would have done anything to erase that. Besides, you looked so helpless all scrunched up in pain. I just wanted to smother you with kisses and make it all better."

"Let's keep walking, Sam. Today's journey is not quite finished. I have a little more thinking to do, but first I have to make a quick phone call. Would you please mind staying here for a moment while I talk in private? I promise you it will only take a few minutes."

With that, I moved ahead about 50 feet and quickly made the call. Turning back I beckoned Sam, "C'mon the walk is just starting to get good, and besides, I could use an ice cream sundae. How about you?"

That camping trip, among others, was one that will go down in the books as an all time favorite. The weather was fantastic. The outfitter had boats that took us off the beaten path. Well, there really was a beaten path, but it wasn't paved, that's for sure. We climbed some of the steepest terrain that I had ever seen and camped along the base of a glacier. The best part of the trip was the time spent with Sam. She would get the greatest joy out of hiking all day, getting a fire started while I set up the camp, and then cooking our meal and just sitting back and talking.

"Do you still have photos from Canada? I would love to see them again."

"Of course, you silly man. You know how I am about my photos and the scrapbooks. When do you want to look at them?"

"I was thinking we could look at them this evening, after dinner with our folks." Our parents had a "grillin' and chillin" party scheduled for tonight. Usually it was held over at our house on the back deck, where my Dad and Sam's would try not to burn the meat while having long, drawn out discussions about the best way to prepare a certain cut of meat. At these events, I would just stand around, drinking a soda trying to learn what they were talking about. It was a rite of passage to learn how to grill every cut of meat, and I knew that I would have to learn it soon.