When Nature Calls Ch. 02

He didn't have to speak; she talked first.

"Do you work here?"

"Um."

He could imagine what might happen now — the complaints to his manager, the embarrassment, the lunchroom stories they would prize out of him if he wasn't fired: "you mean, not only were you masturbating on the job, but you managed to do it infrontof a female hiker, who you found pissing in the woods? And that's beforeyoufollowed up that spectacle by pissing right in front of her, too? Oh, the fellas are gonna be retelling that one for years."

"Yes?" he said.

Gingerly, the woman stood up, releasing her hold on her skirt, slipping her underwear back up to rest under it unseen. She moved reluctantly, as if breaking a spell. There was no hope of avoiding embarrassment now.

"I'm lost," she said, without meeting his eyes. "Uh, can you help me?"

Hector realized that his penis was still out. He tucked it away hurriedly, before she looked up again. "Yes, yes, miss, I'm sorry, yes, just tell me where you need to go and I'll see you there safely."

"Well," she said, following him under the maples and back onto the main trail. "I'm staying at a bed and breakfast nearby."

"Did you, ah — did you lose a companion on the trail?" he asked. She didn't seem like tourists they usually got, unless she was a newlywed. Usually, you came to stay at a bed and breakfast at the edge of a state park when you were fleeing a high-tech corporate job in the city, called hiking a hobby, or were over 60.

"No," she said. "I'm here by myself." And then she seemed to think better of saying this, and hastily added, "But I have a friend waiting for me."

Hector nodded. They walked along the trail. "You walked pretty deep. The trail entrance near the resorts is a good hour away."

And you're not dressed for the occasion,he thought, but didn't say.

"I like..." she said, "I like going where you can't be found."

"I found you," he said, and then realized he shouldn't have.

She cringed a little, looking off into the trees. "Yeah," she said pensively.

Hector fell silent, uncertain of what to say to her, and concerned that she wanted to get away from him as far as possible. If she was truly lost, how desperate must she be to find her way back that she'd askhimto direct her, after what happened in the clearing?

So he kept his mouth closed, noting only that despite her skirt and bare legs, despite the fact that she was lost (which could turn anyone into a fearful little ball of nerves), she strode purposefully and confidently down the trail next to him, picking her way through the undergrowth that stretched into the path and stepping easily over tree roots and stones that made the passage uneven.

Eventually, she said, "My name's June."

"Like the month in summer?"

"Actually, it's short for Juniper."

"Uhh. The tree?"

She nodded, and belatedly he realized he was neglecting his own introduction.

"I'm Hector. Not short for anything."

"Thanks...for leading me, Hector."

This woman confused him; on one hand, lost — on the other, walking as confidently as if she owned this forest; she had no reason to talk to him, and yet she did; and for all her boldness, she let a hint of vulnerability creep into her voice as she thanked him, enough to make him stir in his pants, though he resisted it.

He was trying not to look at her, feeling that they had both exposed too much of themselves already, as if averting his eyes now was the best way to give her the privacy he had taken earlier.

But she kept talking.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Oh, it's been eight or nine years now."

"And you like it here?"

"Love it," he said — as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt awkward, as if it was a commentary not on his job but on the practice of walking into clearings and beating off and pissing wildly when there was a young lady present, so he hastily clarified. "I walk the trails every day. I help hikers. I used to be on the maintenance crew, but I, uh, had a workplace injury, so now I just survey the area for them."

"What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Ahhh, it's nothing too bad. Healed up nicely, so I could return to maintenance but I was offered this instead."

"Was it very painful?"

"The injury?" He hesitated. "No. It makes for a good story - the guys are still telling it — and I had to get surgery, but there's no lingering pain."

"Surgery? It must have been serious."

He turned and saw that she was watching him, but there was no laughter or mockery in her face, only concern.

"I guess. You wanna know the story?"

"Yes, please."

"So I was out with the maintenance crew. It was just after a storm that brought down a lot of trees, and cracked a lot of tree limbs. Obviously it's our job to prune or cut those down, because the last thing we want is for one to drop on someone's head."

June nodded, prompting him to continue.

"So I was up in one of the Genie lifts, with my chainsaw, to help hack down one of those heavy limbs."

"It didn't fall on you?" she gasped.

"No, the branch didn't fall on me," he said. "The chainsaw slipped in my hands."

Both of her hands went to cover her mouth.

"I was wearing protective clothing anyway, you know. It's a special material meant to slow the saw, thick enough to offer resistance, with a thin middle layer that gets pulled apart and snarled up in the chain, to clog it and make it stop. But my hand were fumbling with the saw, trying to catch it again. It slipped, it rotated around my fist, and on its way down it took the button off my pants and just barely nicked the skin underneath."

"Oh my gosh," she said.

"Yeah."

"And you had to get surgery for it?"

"Apparently the saw managed to scratch the, uh, whaddya call it. Vas deferens."

"Oooooh," she said, cringing with sympathetic pain. But she didn't seem disgusted, and Hector realized this was the first time he had told anyone the entire story, let alone an attractive young woman. Because now, when he looked at her, he realized that she was quite pretty. June was petite, with curly brown hair to her shoulders, and a healthy complexion that indicated she spent regular time out-of-doors. Her wide, round eyes gazed at him with an expression like care. It was nice, he realized.

"It wasn't too deep. There was a minor risk of blood loss and infection, but it missed major arteries and since we had the maintenance truck right there, they were able to put me in the flat bed and rush me to get help. I was alright after they patched me up."

"And put you under the knife," she said. "That's no small thing." She made it sound like she was impressed he had persevered.

"Yeah."

"Was it a fast recovery?"

"Pretty much," he said, moving aside a few low branches for her to pass under. "I got three months off to recuperate, and then I came back to the job."

"You must really like it here," she said. "I think I might feel too traumatized to return after an incident like that."

"Well, it helps that they're keeping me away from chainsaws," he said. "And I do like it here."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, keeping his eyes on her as he side-stepped immediately into a bush.

The young woman yelped when he went down, but managed to avoid his flailing limbs and so remained standing above him while he groaned and rolled over. And then he froze.

June was leaning over, extending her hand to help him, and he could see right up her skirt: her soft pattered cotton underwear, which he had seen earlier pushed down around her knees, but now that it was in front of his face he could see the damp spot on it, and the way it molded itself around her pink little pussy.

Slowly he put his arm out, letting her help him to his feet. She even brushed off a bit of dirt on his backside, and all he could think of as she touched him was that small wet spot on her panties — and the fact that he wished she had been wearing nothing underneath at all.

And that made him think of what she had been doing when he burst in on her, and the fact that she had peeled those panties aside to piss all over the dirt...

He felt a shiver around his ears and the sudden urge to relieve himself.

"'Scuse me for a sec," he said, putting his fingertips against her arm, telling her to stay put on the trail while he clomped off into the undergrowth to find a private spot.

He didn't have time to walk far before it became impossible to hold back; he was checking over his shoulder to ensure he was hidden from sight — mercifully, he was — even while he unzipped and pulled out his cock.

He was releasing immediately, spraying out a thick gush of piss that pattered over the leaves on the ground. He heard shuffling behind him — the sound of June pacing on the trail — which must mean that his own stream was audible to her.

Immediately this called to mind her witnessing him pissing...right after cumming on the ground...which reminded him of that pleasure which had previously stiffened his cock, and abruptly his stream cut off as his cock startled awake.

Damn.

He heard something behind him, almost like a little gasp but was probably a leaf crunching, when he ceased urinating, but now there was nothing. "C'mon," he muttered low, coaxing his cock back down.

Obligingly, it relaxed and his flow of piss continued soaking the ground in front of him until he was thoroughly relieved.

He shook off the last clinging droplet and tucked himself back into his pants, blushing as he rejoined June on the trail.

"After you," she said. She was...smiling?

Taking the lead gave him a good opportunity to hide his face from her — he was thoroughly confused by her behavior.

"So," he said, to make conversation, "what brings you to vacation out here?"

"Do you know what a bucket list is?"

"Sure. A list of things to do before you kick the bucket."

"Yeah. It's a quest, a calling, of sorts."

"Oh yeah? So what are you being called to do?" He paused, and then said, each word wrung out of him like he had no choice but to say it, "Miss, are you expecting to die soon?"

She giggled, and grinned at him, and he was bewildered — having said nothing amusing, and feeling guilty with the burden of not knowing what to say or how to behave; how does one ask a person if they are chronically ill? — but she relieved him by saying, "No, but it's a long quest, so I've already started."

"And what's your quest, miss?"

"Please, call me June," she said; this invitation felt so suddenly intimate, even though she had already provided her name, that Hector was stunned into silence and only nodded. "I want to visit every state park in the country," she said. "That's my quest."

"Hell of a quest, miss," he said. "June."

"Thank you," she said. "-Hector."

They had arrived out the side of this section of the park, to the road where his truck was parked. He gestured to it. "I'll give you a lift back to the resort entrance."

"Okay," she said, and her voice was quiet enough that Hector thought perhaps she was nervous to be in a vehicle with him, but she said,

"Thank you," and opened the passenger side door without any visible apprehension.

As he exited the turn-off and reached the main loop around the state park, he impulsively turned in the opposite direction from the resort entrance to take the long way around.

"How long are you staying?" he asked.

"A week," she said. "This is my first day."

"I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you."

They were silent for a minute. Hector eyed her bare leg on the seat out of the corner of his eye.

He could imagine her spreading her legs wide and pissing all over the seat, or streaming out an arc all over the dashboard.

"Whoa," she said when the car swerved.

"Sorry. Sorry," he said, gripping the steering wheel tight. He was usually a cautious driver; this was the last place to embarrass himself.

"So how many state parks have you visited so far?" he asked.

"This is my third."

"Are you going in any particular order?"

"Starting with ones closer to home and moving outward."

"Sounds like a good system," he said lamely.

"Thanks," she said.

They were quiet for several minutes more. Hector wanted to keep talking, but couldn't think of anything that sounded right. They got closer to the resorts.

Abruptly she asked, "You work here every day?"

"Except weekends," he said.

"Maybe I'll see you around," she said.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe. I patrol all over the woods. So, if you're hiking..."

She nodded. They were pulling up to the path.

"Thanks for the help," she said, climbing down from the truck. She looked at him for a moment, and said, "Bye," before stepping down to the ground.

"Bye," he said after her.

He exited the drop-off area at a slow pace, hitting his forehead against the steering wheel. "Damnit. Ishouldhaveaskedher if she neededhelp, could have given her a bit of atour, shown heraroundthe place."

He was past the shopping plaza when he looked at the clock in his dashboard and realized it was well into his lunchtime break, so he took a frustrated U-turn back to the grocery store to buy a lunch that he could eat in his car. There was one he had already prepared back in the break room fridge, but his break would be over by the time he reached it.

He was lingering over the display of prepared sandwiches when the urge hit him; dropping the roast beef he had picked up, he walked swiftly to the back corner of the store where the bathrooms were, hoping he could make it in time.

The bathroom were cordoned off — closed for renovation — and patrons were directed to use the bathroom of the drugstore next door. But Hector was out of time.

He was in the back corner, and there was nobody around: he didn't have time to think about it, wanting only to keep his pants clean so he could exit the store and return to work without shame. He whipped out his cock and pissed all over the floor in the corner.

While he was here, might as well have some fun: he aimed his stream up at the "closed" sign, and at the door to the restrooms. It was a defiant piss, a "fuck you" to an establishment without working facilities.

He didn't have time for places that couldn't sustain bathroom emergencies. He pissed all over them.

He zipped up and walked up through the aisles with a new strut in his step, scooped up the roast beef sandwich, grabbed a soda, and floated through the checkout line.

Only to run straight into June on his way out the door.

"Oh," she said, with genuine surprise; she had not expected to see him so soon.

"Uh, hey again," he said, suddenly realizing that the puddle he had left behind could not escape detection for long; it was possible someone would raise the alarm while she shopped, and she would put two and two together and realize he was some weird freak with a piss issue.

"I'm just on my lunch break," he said, holding up the sandwich. He needed to stall her.

"Yeah, I came here to buy groceries," she said, with a tone self-aware for its redundancies. "It's lunchtime for me too."

"But actually I was thinking about saving it for later to go get food at Fellici's. You ever been there? Now that's a place to put on your bucket list. Forget groceries, I'll treat you to lunch."

He was rambling, and laughing nervously, so it was a shock to him when she said simply, "Okay. It's around the corner, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "You like pasta and pizza?"

"Who doesn't?" she said.

They fell in line together, moving side by side down the boulevard. Hector realized he was still holding his sandwich and jogged away to stash it in his car while June waited patiently on the sidewalk.

Once they sat down at the restaurant and gave their orders to the waitress, some of the awkwardness lifted as they fell into easier conversation. They had attended the same state university, overlapping by one year, and the thought that they were on campus at the same time, even if they never knew each other, was enough to engender feelings of intimacy. They had family living in the same place. They liked as lot of the same music.

By the time the meal was over, Hector had found more in common with June than was different. He had to get up abruptly in the middle a few times to use the facilities, but she didn't seem to mind.

The tablecloth reached all the way to the floor, and it would have been easy to slide his dick out and piss over the floor below, unseen; but he would not tempt fate yet again with this pretty young woman eating by his side.

The food was good, and she expressed her pleasure and gratitude for his lunch invitation and recommendation. Soon, for the second time that day, Hector pulled his truck up to the resort grounds entrance to drop her off, except this time he had secured a confirmation of tomorrow's joint hike, and she waved at him as he drove away.

For the rest of the day, patrolling other sections of the park, he ran into nobody else, and so was able to spend the time daydreaming, no longer about the fantasy woman from before, but about June.

He kept remembering her, squatting over the ground, her skirt lifted just enough to see the curve of the buttcheek underneath, those panties clinging to her knees.

He was so, so tempted to sneak off the trail and masturbate again — but knowing his luck, she'd pop up out of the ground and witness his embarrassment yet again. So he held it in, although he stomped off the trail to water a few flowers when he had to piss, until the end of day, when he pulled up in front of his house.

And there, sitting in the driveway, he jacked off over the dashboard, imagining that June was sitting in the passenger seat next to him, dreaming about her flooding the interior of his car.

He came hard, spurting over the dashboard. His cum dotted the windshield like rain droplets, and dripped down the steering wheel onto his own leg. As soon as he let go of his cock, the piss flowed out, and he released all over the floor mats.

He was still imagining June peeing in his truck, spreading her legs and streaming through her cotton panties, puddling the seat around her; he also imagined her lifting her knees, sliding the underwear up, and lying back in the seat to soak everything in front of her with urine. In his mind, her imagined relief mingled with his own pleasure.

In the morning, Hector followed the same routine as he always did — made his bed, started the coffee brewing, stepped into his boots to take a walk and a morning piss outside, and then returned to read the news and masturbate. Except this time, he closed his browser when he was done catching up on the headlines. The embarrassment from the day before had faded; Hector was looking at the scene anew.

Now it was easy to imagine that the two of them were in the clearing at the same time, intentionally: imagining that June had squatted for him, hiking her skirt up and pushing her panties aside, to give him a show, and that in response he had taken cock in hand and let loose over the earth...he thought about the vulnerability of June's position, how easily he might stand in front of her with his dick out while she squatted and...

Hector came. And then, as he always did, pissed.

--- Chapter Three coming soon!