I spent all day looking at her legs.

And thought about the shape of her butt more than I’d care to admit. I mean, really, I couldn’t help it. Mel walked a few feet ahead of me, taking up my view as we navigated rocky scrambles and padded through fairytale pines. The scenery kept changing, except for her.

Melanie and I had been training for this hike all spring, the only ones in our friend group who were, as they would say, “equally nutty for the outdoors.” We’d been hanging out more often, getting closer. Everyday I’d look at my phone and feel a little jolt when I’d see, “Johnson Park, 5:00?” She and I would meet up and hike a new trail, talking about work, our cats, and the new tea in our dating pool.

But now that the fateful weekend had arrived, I found myself having new thoughts. The way her hips swooped into her waist like the cello I played in middle school. Perfect handholds. Strong shoulders holding her heavy pack, toned forearms swinging along her sides. Glistening neck. Hair tapered down behind her ears.

I’ve just been single too long, I told myself. It’s natural to project these feelings on a friend. Lorde knows I’ve done it before. And suddenly my thoughts were cut short as I slipped on a loose rock.

Mel turned around, face rosy and beaming,“You good, Andrea?”

“Yup, just almost ate shit,” I laughed.

“Um, why’d you do that, when you could eat other things,” she joked, getting back to walking. I chuckled, but was glad she couldn’t see my face.

Our pace was fast. We’d go stretches at a time without talking, hearing only the sound of our breath. It was a mindless kind of day. Just being in my body. The repetition of walking and breathing. And looking at her.

Eventually, high up on a peak, the sun began to set. The rays came up through the trees lighting the vault of the canopy like a cathedral. But the sky peaking through was a moody, bruised purple. We needed to set up camp. And just in time, we walked up to a small campground with fire pits. No one else was there.

Exhausted, we both dropped our packs. While there was still light, I threw a rope over a tree branch with a weighted bag to hang any food we had left after dinner. We gathered sticks, and I worked to start a fire. But the wind was picking up.

“Come here for a sec,” I said. “I need your hands. Can you block the wind as I get this dang firestarter going.”

“Sure thing,” she said, and got inches from me. Part of her arm was touching mine, and I was aware of her tousled hair in my peripheral vision. I kept flicking the lighter. Finally the kindling caught.

“Nice! You’ve got magic fingers,” she smiled. “I’m gonna go set up my tent. Be right back.”

I watched her disappear around the corner as I warmed up dinner and made tea. My thoughts wandered with the crackling flames. Blue dusk fell around us.

It was surprising, then, when a gust of wind hit me like a brick. The kind of gust that sucks all the air from your lungs and reminds you that nature could smite your ass if she wanted to. And maybe she did tonight. With squinty eyes, I watched all my gear and clothes and trash scatter.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cried, scrambling after my stuff. I heard Mel approach and start helping. The wind kept coming.

“Make sure to get the food wrappers!” I yelled over the rustling leaves. “Bears will eat them. Or eat us!”

And just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I felt the first drop of rain. And then the next, until it was pouring down my face and into my nose.

“I think we got most of it, Andrea. C’mon,” Mel said, gesturing to the bear bag. We pulleyed it back down, dumped the soggy food stuff inside and tied up the rope. It whipped around in the wind but stayed up. Then I just stood there not knowing what to do. My body was as soaked as if I had stood in a shower. There was no way I could set up my tent now. How did this happen?

I felt her hand grip mine, and she pulled me to her spot. We shoved the remaining gear into our bags and put on the rain covers. She fumbled with the zipper flap of her tiny tent and we flopped inside, gasping.

By this point it was pitch black. Mel clicked on a headlamp and set it down.

“We look…like drowned rats,” she remarked dryly. It was true, and I had to laugh. Soon we were both hysterically giggling. Sometimes you have to when you’re screwed. My hair was smooshed down on my forehead and her clothes were clinging to all the wrong places.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take these off,” I said, peeling off my layers.

“Of course not,” she said, doing the same. “I have extra clothes in my dry sack outside. I’ll get them when it stops pouring.”

Soon we were down to our underwear. I tried not to look directly at her but we were facing each other, knees crammed together. The light was dim, her breasts inches away. Water was dripping down my eyelashes and onto my own chest.

And then, “Wait, is that a tick?”

“Where?!” I gasped, looking down at myself. Ticks were no joke.

“Your leg,” Mel said. She reached over and gently touched my inner thigh. It was the lightest graze. A speck of dirt wiped off. “Okay, never mind, ha.”

“Oh, thank god,” I sighed, and started shivering.

“You cold?” She asked.

I said yes, but didn’t admit that there was something else too. This was a nervous kind of shaking. Like the first time I slept with a girl. All because she touched me. And I couldn’t stop.

“Here, lay down,” she offered and all but shoved me into her sleeping bag. “First, take these off.” And the underwear came off. She didn’t give me a chance to feign a polite protest before I was suddenly her little spoon and she was rubbing my side with her arm. “You’ll heat up in a second,” she laughed.

I felt so silly but was entirely consumed by her warmth. It permeated my entire body. I felt my back melt into her chest. My butt fit like a puzzle piece into her groin. Slowly, our breathing evened out. Minutes went by. Finally my shaking subsided, and I let out a deep sigh. Her rubs slowed down.

And then they started wandering.

So slowly I couldn’t tell at first, her palm crept under my breasts. And then, smoothly, deliberately, up my collarbone. I was in disbelief, but stopped thinking altogether. All I could focus on was her touch. The bottom of my neck. Things were moving in slow motion, and I was hyper aware of every touch. Then, softly, with the insides of her fingers, she grazed my nipples. My breath quickened. She played with them gently.

My hips involuntarily flexed as her hand wandered south and traced my tummy. Achingly slow. Then, like that first touch, she was at my inner thigh, but didn’t stop there. Still on our sides, my legs opened as if under a spell.

“Is this okay?” She breathed.

“Yes.” The word came out immediately.

“Okay, good,” she cooed. I could hear the smile in her words and then a satisfied noise as her fingers met a new kind of wetness. Her middle finger ran slow, tight circles around my clit until it grew into a throbbing pearl.

Thankful that no one was camping around us and that the rain was crashing against the tent walls, my moans melted into the night. I couldn’t stop them if I tried. Maybe it was all the exercise today, or the mental grounding from being in nature, but I was gushing. My back pushed into her, her breath in my ear, I felt hungry. Selfish. But Mel seemed to like it, our hips moving together.

Finally, sweaty and all kinds of damp, I rolled over on top of her, my right thigh in between her legs. The headlamp was shoved somewhere in the corner, and in the soft light I must have had the crazy look of someone who’s just come twenty times.

Mel’s eyes glinted, searching mine. My hand slipped behind her neck and we kissed. A lot. I don’t think I could ever get over how smooth women’s lips are, but tonight was a revelation. My tongue ran along her lower lip until her hips started pushing hard against mine and I returned the favor. I filled my mouth with her right tit. Then her left. My tongue lapped her up like ice cream until I figured out what she responded to.

“You’re good at that,” she breathed, her hands gripping my sides.

Our rhythm got faster. Grinding, I moved my lips across hers, slick and full. Her neck tasted salty and I breathed her in. She smelled like the earth. And like Mel. I felt her back arch under me. And again. The rain beat above us as writhed together, too tired from hiking to be self conscious or hold back. Our bodies just did what they wanted.

Finally, “alright, now I’m too hot,” I said, sitting up out of the sleeping bag. Still straddling her, I let my skin cool off. I was tingly.

“You’re right about that,” she joked, intentionally cheesy. Her eyes scanned me up and down. “But really. You’re pretty hot, Andrea. I’ve always thought that.”

I made some noncommittal grunt and blushed. “Too bad there’s no room in here to eat you out,” I offered. My head was already touching the top of the tent.

“Oh, I have another idea,” Mel grinned, and tried to shimmy under me.

“What are you doing?” I laughed, as we awkwardly adjusted. But my laughing immediately stopped as her warm tongue slid along my labia. I let out a guttural groan.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “That feels good.”

There was nothing to grab onto, as I gyrated on top of her. Over the scratching of the tent fabric, I heard her noises of longing. She moaned into my pussy, and I reached back to brace myself on her strong thigh, and then touched her too. She sucked and licked until I could only hear whooshing blood in my ears. If I made a noise I couldn’t hear it.

Nearly collapsing, I dismounted. Draped on her chest and out of breath, my limbs felt like butter, oily and loose. My face was smooshed into the pillow of her breast. But this time it didn’t feel weird.

After a minute, Mel kissed my neck and whispered a request. “Can you…go inside of me?”

I lifted my head and kissed her back. We smiled at each other. She looked like a classic black and white photograph, lit strongly from the side. An image that only existed for me, right now.

Slowly, I slipped inside her, and like the crests of the mountain we climbed today, I could feel her inner ridges. In a slow come-hither motion, my finger massaged the roof of her vagina.

“Harder,” she said, my face to her breasts. I couldn’t believe how gorgeous she was. That I was touching her. “Faster.” We were moving together, our breathing coming fast. Then silence. Until her voice pierced the empty woods. I felt her clamp down on my finger, neck tense, toes curled. Somehow, I came too.

Sticky and slippery, we laid next to each other. The tiny tent glowed like an ember. I heard her say softly, “Do you think a bear heard us?”

“I think everyone heard us,” I laughed. She played with my fingers absentmindedly and grinned.

Sleep was falling like a weighted blanket. I yearned to look at her body more—all night—especially the parts I didn’t see much of earlier, but my eyes were filling with sand.

Slipping back into the sleeping bag, I slowly stroked her back. We snuggled like bunnies in a warm den, seemingly unable to get any closer to each other, as the rain pitter-pattered and the trees breathed above us.