Nora visits the Glade
Nora woke up before dawn and made a cup of tea, careful not to wake her sister Quinn, whose room shared a thin wall with the kitchen. She packed a light lunch and a paperback copy of 27 poems by Han-shan, stepped into her sandals and shut the apartment door quietly behind her. Outside, the street was empty except for a cat padding over the cobblestones. Nora mounted her bike and coasted downhill towards the river.
She loved moving through town this time of day — like glimpsing something hidden from the daytime crowd. Wind swept her hair back as she silently picked up speed past dark windows and café chairs upside down on tables.
At the riverfront, she passed the hotel, where she didn’t have to work until the following afternoon. The place was booked up, but the guests were all still sleeping in their rooms. Nora was eager to get out to the quiet trails of the Preserve before things got busy for the day.
At the trailhead, she stashed her bike behind a shrub and set off along the narrow dirt path. The sun had just come over the horizon and bathed the treetops in rosy light. Over her swimsuit she wore a pair of poplin shorts and a loose chambray shirt, which she unbuttoned to cool down from the ride. The fresh forest air felt good on her flushed skin, and she thought of the Glade, an area of Heather Beach adjoining the Preserve, where she often met friends for a swim. It must be nice there this morning, she thought. The next fork took her that way.
As she came around the last bend, a patch of red amid the green foliage stopped her short. On approach, she could see it was the rain fly of a backpacking tent, set up at the edge of the small clearing along the shore of the river. There were two bikes leaned against a tree and two pairs of sandals in the sand, but no one around that she could see. Nora walked quietly along the opposite edge of the clearing and headed for a hidden reading spot the other side of a thicket of scrubby trees. It was common for people to camp here, so she didn’t take much notice. She did recognize the bikes, but couldn’t remember from where.
Behind the thicket stood a large and sprawling willow whose thick branches overhung the water. One particular branch, close in to the massive trunk, was Nora’s favorite spot to read. She kicked off her sandals and climbed up, soon forgetting about the campsite.
In the familiar privacy of the reading tree, Nora felt comfortable undressing a little. She took the chambray shirt off, along with the shorts, and draped both neatly over a branch. She slipped the straps of her bikini top down off her shoulders and over her arms, shimmying the thin cups down around her stomach. Low sunlight filtered though the leaves and lit her skin, casting a warm glow under and between her breasts. It felt (and looked, she had to admit) quite lovely. She opened the book and quickly got absorbed in it.
A sound from beyond the thicket made her stop and loop a finger under the strap of her top. A girl’s voice — no two, giggling quietly. “Nuh uh, I did last night. It’s your turn.”
Then wet sounds like kissing, followed by more giggling from one of the girls. Giggles turned to sighs, and sighs to gentle moans. Nora was surprised. What was she hearing? It sounded to her precisely like someone going down on her camping partner.
“Oh my gosh, Janie. That feels good.”
Janie? That’s where I recognize the bike from, Nora though. Janie was a classmate of Luc, studying pottery at the college. She worked at the museum café and hung around the hotel patio on weekends, and was at this moment making her friend (whom Nora no doubt had also crossed paths with) moan softly with pleasure. “Mmm Janie,” came the voice.
Nora listened curiously. She could hear nylon sleeping bags rustling, the girl’s heavy breathing, and what she imagined to be Janie’s mouth against her friend’s wet pussy. Nora moved her right hand from her thigh down to the smooth fabric of her bikini bottom, where she began to circle her pubic bone and clit with three fingers held flat.
“You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”
Nora bit her lip and let go of the thick branch to bring her left hand up to a naked breast. The tree’s bark felt rough and secure against her back and bottom, and her nipple stiffened further at the gentle pull of her fingers. Willow leaves tickled a hip, a knee. She moved in time with the girl’s quickening moans, imagining the scene in the tent, surprising herself at how arousing it all was. She had to hold back sighs of her own as she worked to keep up with their pace.
The girl in the tent came loudly, repeating her friend’s name with each wave of orgasm. Nora pressed her fingers hard to her clit and rocked her hips forward, stopping just short of her own climax. She didn’t trust her ability to come without moaning, and any sound would surely give away her aural voyeurism, but still she enjoyed a wave of sensation receding from the edge.
The tent unzipped and the girls’ giggling grew louder. Through the foliage, Nora saw them emerge onto the beach and run down to the water. She immediately recognized the other as Em, another pottery student and Celandine patio regular. The two girls were naked, their bodies contrasting distinctly in shape and proportion to one another. Nora took in a few details — Em’s plump boob in profile, Janie’s lithe torso, an ample pear-shaped bottom, bouncing topknot, bright tan lines crossed between shoulder blades — before the two dove headlong and shrieking into the clear water.
As the girls splashed in the river, Nora climbed down from her reading spot and slipped past the tent back to the trail, where she stopped behind a fern. She wriggled the bikini top back up over her breasts and slipped into her loose clothes. As she walked back towards the Preserve in search of a quiet spot to herself, she laughed at the strangeness of what just happened. I can’t believe I heard that, she said to herself. Oh gosh, or did that. She enjoyed the glow still emanating from between her legs, and looked forward to picking up where she left off somewhere a bit more private.