April 24-25 2023, Manassas Gap to Stealth Site:
Yesterday, Skylar drove me to El Paso. We went shopping for clothes and walked around town as it was getting dark. We sat by the water fountain and watched while a wedding photographer peeked at his watch, uncovering through his gesture that he was ready to go home. When dusk hit, we went out to eat at a fancy restaurant and pretended to be a couple.
I jokingly got mad and yelled, “Did you think the waitress was hot?!” as she was walking away.
We laughed and enjoyed our time together as best as we could. We got a plethora of food and ended our main meals with some sugary desserts—soft churros and ice cream.
Then, he got us a room for the night at a modern hotel. When we made it to the room and got cozied up in our bed, I told him I didn’t feel like having sex. I really just wanted to relax—my mind felt tired from all the games/thoughts. I could feel that he didn’t care either way. It was so rare that I experienced that sort of respect. I was expecting some sort of resistance or backlash but he was so mature about it.
The next morning, he drove me to the airport because one of my readers had trail magic’d me a flight back to the trail so I wouldn’t have to hitchhike. My reader and I agreed that “Trail Daddy” was a fitting name for him. In return, I gifted him a macramé dress for a girl he wanted to woo.
When I was going through airport security, somebody’s hat caused the metal detector alarm to go off. I asked one of the TSA guys why that was.
His name was Jeff and he said, “His hat probably had a metal ring going around it.”
Another TSA guy named Brian chimed in and said, “This guy knows nothing about cowboy hats.”
Jeff goes, “Yeah, well, you know nothing about trucks.”
Brian pointed to Jeff and mocked, “This guy drives a Toyota Corolla.”
“So?”
“I drive a big pick up truck. It can take you places.”
They kept going back and forth about their cars and I could tell they were trying to alpha male each other in front of me. Sometimes, I felt men talked too much. Didn’t they know how turned on I felt that they were simply standing there in their uniforms? I would’ve fucked both of them right there if they would’ve let me.
I felt so aroused the entirety of the trip back to trail. Voodoo called me and just the sound of his voice had my pussy begging for him. He wanted to know where I was getting back on trail at and I wanted to tell him real bad, however I had a couple of lovers I wanted to see first. I yearned to feel someone new. I felt sneaky, as if I wanted to get away with misbehaving, playing pretend that the truth wouldn’t surface.
There was a man on the plane who was sitting behind me. I overheard him talking to the guy beside him, sharing a story about how he picked up a hitchhiker girl one time and how they did LSD together. Eventually, she jumped out of the car when she started tripping too hard.
“She must’ve gotten psyched out about something,” he said.
I turned around and said, “I love your story.”
“Thank you,” he said, “have you ever hitchhiked before?”
I laughed at the irony of the situation and said, “Oh, let me tell you…”
We got to talking—his name was Keith and the guy beside him was Rick. We talked about my hitchhiking experiences and how I was currently hiking the Appalachian Trail. Eventually, he asked how I was going to make it back to the trailhead and I told him I was just going to hitch a ride from the airport.
“Do you want to ride?” he asked.
“Fuck yeah I do!” I exclaimed.
When we got off the plane, Keith, Rick and I went to the baggage claim. We laughed at the odd group we had just formed. Keith was a data analysis for Amazon, whereas Rick was a pilot and I was a hitchhiker who made bondage dresses.
We got our luggage and took a shuttle to the rental car place. I could tell Rick took interest in me. His body language became more touchy and his eye contact grew more sultry. He asked for my number, saying he wanted to hang out with me as friends, but the look in his eyes had “sex” written all over them. We parted ways when Keith and I got dropped off at the rental car place.
After he picked up his car, he had to run to the bathroom and told me to wait in the vehicle. One of the workers came out and told me I had to move the car right away because it was parked in a fire lane. Uncomfortable with the situation, I still hopped in the driver’s seat and started driving. Next thing I saw was Keith running towards me in the rear view mirror trying to get me to stop the car. I laughed at how much it must’ve looked as if I was trying to make a run for it.
We laughed it off and I got back in the passenger seat. He asked if I needed to stop anywhere, so I said the gas station would be great so I could fill up my water bottles. Instead, he bought me some new water bottles and offered to get me anything I wanted so I got a hot dog. He got himself some nachos and showed me a little trick.
He opened up the nacho machine and said, “You always gotta check to see if the cheese is expired or not,” he looked at the date and confirmed, “all good.”
Then, we got in the car and I ate my hotdog while he rummaged through his luggage to look for his weed. He told me how he got in trouble with his boss because he hadn’t been responding to his work calls for over two weeks. The TSA was looking for him because he had weed stored in his luggage where the company computer happened to be in, too. When the security was looking for him, he apparently decided to run out of the airport, leaving everything behind. I asked him how old he was, assuming he was telling me a story from when he was in his twenties.
“I’m 47,” he said, “this just happened a couple of weeks ago!”
He continued to look for the weed and said, “I just feel so sporadic.”
I could tell by his tone of voice that he was trying to be flirtatious.
He continued, “It’s because of you.”
“Why is it because of me?” I asked, “I didn’t do anything,” I tried shifting the conversation to something more casual, so I asked, “Is it because you’re not used to picking up hitchhikers?”
He said, “I’m not used to having pretty hitchhikers like you in my car.”
I always seemed to handle those types of situations differently, so this time around I decided to play stupid, acting as if I wasn’t picking up on his sexual remarks. He would try to make a witty comment to get me all riled up and I would pretend to not understand what he was getting at which caused him to rephrase his words numerous times, tirelessly explaining that he was attempting to hit on me.
I would say, “Ohhhhhh,” then look out the window and laugh under my breath.
He had a dented Starbucks can with holes in it placed in the cup holder, so I threw it out assuming it was garbage. He got upset and ran out of the car to dig it out of the trash can, explaining how he needed it in order to smoke his weed.
When he started smoking, I opened the car door since I felt really sensitive to getting contact high. I spoke up and told him I preferred having some air flow. Little moments like that made me notice how much more lightly I handled those situations compared to in the past. I wasn’t as afraid to speak up nor was I placing a shameful energy on him for wanting to partake in something he clearly enjoyed.
We made one more stop at a French bakery and he let me pick out as many things as I wanted, so I got an entire plate of pastries. I felt like a little kid in a candy store—doughy desserts were my absolute go to on trail, so I felt as if I scored.
It seemed as if he was trying to elongate our time together as much as possible, but it was getting dark so I asked if we could start making our way to the trail. He said it wasn’t a problem and started driving. He started bringing up how much he liked me and how he wanted to spend more time with me, even suggesting that we camp together overnight.
“You know,” I blurted, “I’m really not interested in having sex.”
He seemed really off put and offended when I said that. It seemed as if his eyes were reading, Why? Am I not attractive to you?
Earlier at the airport, he had asked what my book was going to be about.
Anytime someone asked, I would usually say, “Hitchhiking, eroticism, and backpacking.”
I noticed as soon as I had said the word “eroticism”, his entire demeanor had changed. I realized I didn’t always have to share everything with everyone, because often times peoples vibes would change. He even let me know that his ears perked up when I had mentioned eroticism.
He appeared like a man child to me. At one point, he got too high and became paranoid when a cop was driving behind him for a few minutes. He dropped me off at Manassas Gap and when I gave him a hug goodbye, he tried to kiss me. I turned the other cheek with an air of annoyance, but thanked him for bringing me back to the trail (in one piece).
I walked a little ways and camped just south of Manassas Gap. There was just enough light left for me to get everything set up. I looked at the sky and felt it wouldn’t rain on me overnight, so I took the chance and cowboy camped.
I had a list of lovers who asked to call me. I had told Voodoo about the driver trying to fuck me and he became all worried, especially because I wasn’t responding to his text/calls right away. I smiled sweetly and decided to call a couple of lovers first. In seduction, it was encouraged to stir up the emotions through a little bit of distance and fear.
So, I went down the list of lovers I had promised to call. I called Bud to thank him because he had offered me a ride all the way back to Virginia, but I told him I had already made it. I let him know how much fun I had playing with such a big cock and how I hoped he would let me come visit him at some point along the trail.
Then, I called Pusher to let him know I was finally ready to submit to him. He still didn’t believe me, so it only inspired me to prove it to him by making it a point to come meet him. I really wanted to feel the entirety of his cock since it didn’t seem like I got to experience him fully in the Smokies.
After Pusher, I called Voodoo and let him know how much I had been dreaming about his cock. Which was very true. The entire plane ride home, that was all I could fantasize about.
“Goddamnit, Freyja,” he said, “you got me on a ledge.”
There was an unspoken energy between us. I knew that he knew I was being bad while I was slightly loosened from his grip.
“Run with me and never grow old,” he said.
He called me his sunshine and told me to come back home to his arms. Although tempted, I knew that I still wanted to hike alone for a bit. I told him I had to visit that lover girl I had met, because turned out she was into eating out girls in the woods.
Yogi had also asked me to call him, which felt like a surprise, because last year he had cut things off with me. He wasn’t open to being “one” of my lovers. He preferred for me be his one and only. I supported him and his boundaries, so I stayed out of touch. But now, he came back around and told me he had been learning the art of shibari while we were apart and that if I felt so inspired to visit him in Maine, he would love to tie me up in silks and restrain me to the bed.
I said, “For you, anything.”
Then, one of my lovers from back in Chicago reached out to me. His name was Nick and he was curious when I would make it back to the mid-west—said he couldn’t stop dreaming of how good my pussy felt riding up and down his cock.
Lastly, I talked to Free. He said he was thinking of me and I told him he should come visit me in Damascus. He said he was practicing a lot of restraint last time he saw me with Voodoo. I told him the feeling was mutual. He was looking forward to letting me pounce on him.
I felt like I checked everyone off of my list for the night—each man seeming satisfied with my tantalizing words. Then, I masturbated to the thought of all of my lovers’ hands groping my pale-skinned body, each playing a part in my rising climax.
Yesterday, Skylar drove me to El Paso. We went shopping for clothes and walked around town as it was getting dark. We sat by the water fountain and watched while a wedding photographer peeked at his watch, uncovering through his gesture that he was ready to go home. When dusk hit, we went out to eat at a fancy restaurant and pretended to be a couple.
I jokingly got mad and yelled, “Did you think the waitress was hot?!” as she was walking away.
We laughed and enjoyed our time together as best as we could. We got a plethora of food and ended our main meals with some sugary desserts—soft churros and ice cream.
Then, he got us a room for the night at a modern hotel. When we made it to the room and got cozied up in our bed, I told him I didn’t feel like having sex. I really just wanted to relax—my mind felt tired from all the games/thoughts. I could feel that he didn’t care either way. It was so rare that I experienced that sort of respect. I was expecting some sort of resistance or backlash but he was so mature about it.
The next morning, he drove me to the airport because one of my readers had trail magic’d me a flight back to the trail so I wouldn’t have to hitchhike. My reader and I agreed that “Trail Daddy” was a fitting name for him. In return, I gifted him a macramé dress for a girl he wanted to woo.
When I was going through airport security, somebody’s hat caused the metal detector alarm to go off. I asked one of the TSA guys why that was.
His name was Jeff and he said, “His hat probably had a metal ring going around it.”
Another TSA guy named Brian chimed in and said, “This guy knows nothing about cowboy hats.”
Jeff goes, “Yeah, well, you know nothing about trucks.”
Brian pointed to Jeff and mocked, “This guy drives a Toyota Corolla.”
“So?”
“I drive a big pick up truck. It can take you places.”
They kept going back and forth about their cars and I could tell they were trying to alpha male each other in front of me. Sometimes, I felt men talked too much. Didn’t they know how turned on I felt that they were simply standing there in their uniforms? I would’ve fucked both of them right there if they would’ve let me.
I felt so aroused the entirety of the trip back to trail. Voodoo called me and just the sound of his voice had my pussy begging for him. He wanted to know where I was getting back on trail at and I wanted to tell him real bad, however I had a couple of lovers I wanted to see first. I yearned to feel someone new. I felt sneaky, as if I wanted to get away with misbehaving, playing pretend that the truth wouldn’t surface.
There was a man on the plane who was sitting behind me. I overheard him talking to the guy beside him, sharing a story about how he picked up a hitchhiker girl one time and how they did LSD together. Eventually, she jumped out of the car when she started tripping too hard.
“She must’ve gotten psyched out about something,” he said.
I turned around and said, “I love your story.”
“Thank you,” he said, “have you ever hitchhiked before?”
I laughed at the irony of the situation and said, “Oh, let me tell you…”
We got to talking—his name was Keith and the guy beside him was Rick. We talked about my hitchhiking experiences and how I was currently hiking the Appalachian Trail. Eventually, he asked how I was going to make it back to the trailhead and I told him I was just going to hitch a ride from the airport.
“Do you want to ride?” he asked.
“Fuck yeah I do!” I exclaimed.
When we got off the plane, Keith, Rick and I went to the baggage claim. We laughed at the odd group we had just formed. Keith was a data analysis for Amazon, whereas Rick was a pilot and I was a hitchhiker who made bondage dresses.
We got our luggage and took a shuttle to the rental car place. I could tell Rick took interest in me. His body language became more touchy and his eye contact grew more sultry. He asked for my number, saying he wanted to hang out with me as friends, but the look in his eyes had “sex” written all over them. We parted ways when Keith and I got dropped off at the rental car place.
After he picked up his car, he had to run to the bathroom and told me to wait in the vehicle. One of the workers came out and told me I had to move the car right away because it was parked in a fire lane. Uncomfortable with the situation, I still hopped in the driver’s seat and started driving. Next thing I saw was Keith running towards me in the rear view mirror trying to get me to stop the car. I laughed at how much it must’ve looked as if I was trying to make a run for it.
We laughed it off and I got back in the passenger seat. He asked if I needed to stop anywhere, so I said the gas station would be great so I could fill up my water bottles. Instead, he bought me some new water bottles and offered to get me anything I wanted so I got a hot dog. He got himself some nachos and showed me a little trick.
He opened up the nacho machine and said, “You always gotta check to see if the cheese is expired or not,” he looked at the date and confirmed, “all good.”
Then, we got in the car and I ate my hotdog while he rummaged through his luggage to look for his weed. He told me how he got in trouble with his boss because he hadn’t been responding to his work calls for over two weeks. The TSA was looking for him because he had weed stored in his luggage where the company computer happened to be in, too. When the security was looking for him, he apparently decided to run out of the airport, leaving everything behind. I asked him how old he was, assuming he was telling me a story from when he was in his twenties.
“I’m 47,” he said, “this just happened a couple of weeks ago!”
He continued to look for the weed and said, “I just feel so sporadic.”
I could tell by his tone of voice that he was trying to be flirtatious.
He continued, “It’s because of you.”
“Why is it because of me?” I asked, “I didn’t do anything,” I tried shifting the conversation to something more casual, so I asked, “Is it because you’re not used to picking up hitchhikers?”
He said, “I’m not used to having pretty hitchhikers like you in my car.”
I always seemed to handle those types of situations differently, so this time around I decided to play stupid, acting as if I wasn’t picking up on his sexual remarks. He would try to make a witty comment to get me all riled up and I would pretend to not understand what he was getting at which caused him to rephrase his words numerous times, tirelessly explaining that he was attempting to hit on me.
I would say, “Ohhhhhh,” then look out the window and laugh under my breath.
He had a dented Starbucks can with holes in it placed in the cup holder, so I threw it out assuming it was garbage. He got upset and ran out of the car to dig it out of the trash can, explaining how he needed it in order to smoke his weed.
When he started smoking, I opened the car door since I felt really sensitive to getting contact high. I spoke up and told him I preferred having some air flow. Little moments like that made me notice how much more lightly I handled those situations compared to in the past. I wasn’t as afraid to speak up nor was I placing a shameful energy on him for wanting to partake in something he clearly enjoyed.
We made one more stop at a French bakery and he let me pick out as many things as I wanted, so I got an entire plate of pastries. I felt like a little kid in a candy store—doughy desserts were my absolute go to on trail, so I felt as if I scored.
It seemed as if he was trying to elongate our time together as much as possible, but it was getting dark so I asked if we could start making our way to the trail. He said it wasn’t a problem and started driving. He started bringing up how much he liked me and how he wanted to spend more time with me, even suggesting that we camp together overnight.
“You know,” I blurted, “I’m really not interested in having sex.”
He seemed really off put and offended when I said that. It seemed as if his eyes were reading, Why? Am I not attractive to you?
Earlier at the airport, he had asked what my book was going to be about.
Anytime someone asked, I would usually say, “Hitchhiking, eroticism, and backpacking.”
I noticed as soon as I had said the word “eroticism”, his entire demeanor had changed. I realized I didn’t always have to share everything with everyone, because often times peoples vibes would change. He even let me know that his ears perked up when I had mentioned eroticism.
He appeared like a man child to me. At one point, he got too high and became paranoid when a cop was driving behind him for a few minutes. He dropped me off at Manassas Gap and when I gave him a hug goodbye, he tried to kiss me. I turned the other cheek with an air of annoyance, but thanked him for bringing me back to the trail (in one piece).
I walked a little ways and camped just south of Manassas Gap. There was just enough light left for me to get everything set up. I looked at the sky and felt it wouldn’t rain on me overnight, so I took the chance and cowboy camped.
I had a list of lovers who asked to call me. I had told Voodoo about the driver trying to fuck me and he became all worried, especially because I wasn’t responding to his text/calls right away. I smiled sweetly and decided to call a couple of lovers first. In seduction, it was encouraged to stir up the emotions through a little bit of distance and fear.
So, I went down the list of lovers I had promised to call. I called Bud to thank him because he had offered me a ride all the way back to Virginia, but I told him I had already made it. I let him know how much fun I had playing with such a big cock and how I hoped he would let me come visit him at some point along the trail.
Then, I called Pusher to let him know I was finally ready to submit to him. He still didn’t believe me, so it only inspired me to prove it to him by making it a point to come meet him. I really wanted to feel the entirety of his cock since it didn’t seem like I got to experience him fully in the Smokies.
After Pusher, I called Voodoo and let him know how much I had been dreaming about his cock. Which was very true. The entire plane ride home, that was all I could fantasize about.
“Goddamnit, Freyja,” he said, “you got me on a ledge.”
There was an unspoken energy between us. I knew that he knew I was being bad while I was slightly loosened from his grip.
“Run with me and never grow old,” he said.
He called me his sunshine and told me to come back home to his arms. Although tempted, I knew that I still wanted to hike alone for a bit. I told him I had to visit that lover girl I had met, because turned out she was into eating out girls in the woods.
Yogi had also asked me to call him, which felt like a surprise, because last year he had cut things off with me. He wasn’t open to being “one” of my lovers. He preferred for me be his one and only. I supported him and his boundaries, so I stayed out of touch. But now, he came back around and told me he had been learning the art of shibari while we were apart and that if I felt so inspired to visit him in Maine, he would love to tie me up in silks and restrain me to the bed.
I said, “For you, anything.”
Then, one of my lovers from back in Chicago reached out to me. His name was Nick and he was curious when I would make it back to the mid-west—said he couldn’t stop dreaming of how good my pussy felt riding up and down his cock.
Lastly, I talked to Free. He said he was thinking of me and I told him he should come visit me in Damascus. He said he was practicing a lot of restraint last time he saw me with Voodoo. I told him the feeling was mutual. He was looking forward to letting me pounce on him.
I felt like I checked everyone off of my list for the night—each man seeming satisfied with my tantalizing words. Then, I masturbated to the thought of all of my lovers’ hands groping my pale-skinned body, each playing a part in my rising climax.
