Printer-friendly version

Chapters 29, 30 & 31: Karen and Persi, now a married and expectant couple, are finishing their residency. Fanny approaches them with an offer they can’t refuse. It is something that will help carry on both Fanny and Musetta’s legacy. Sylvia makes sure that Karen is ready to continue on her adventure. She exchanges Karen’s mummy bag with one that will zip to Pat’s. What does Sylvia have on her mind? It’s a tough two day trip; however, Karen finds Pat right where he was supposed to be. She also finds he is fighting mixed feelings about her. There is still some residue left from Brenda’s nefariousness.

---

 
Introduction:

Chapters 29, 30 & 31: Karen and Persi, now a married and expectant couple, are finishing their residency. Fanny approaches them with an offer they can’t refuse. It is something that will help carry on both Fanny and Musetta’s legacy. Sylvia makes sure that Karen is ready to continue on her adventure. She exchanges Karen’s mummy bag with one that will zip to Pat’s. What does Sylvia have on her mind? It’s a tough two day trip; however, Karen finds Pat right where he was supposed to be. She also finds he is fighting mixed feelings about her. There is still some residue left from Brenda’s nefariousness.

Author's Note:There are references to characters in previous novels, and I would strongly recommend that you read them if you haven’t already done so. Musetta Gigliotti O’Donnell is mentioned and referred to several times. Although she has been deceased for many years before this story begins, her influence is very strong. ‘Musetta’s Waltz’ is not very long and will give some important background. Musetta is a wonderful transgendered woman who overcomes extreme adversity.

This story is the fifth in the series and to date, the entire series covers nearly 100 years and five generations. The first story is “The Heart of the Beholder” and deals with the early life of Mike and Jo O’Donnell. “The Narragansett Fork” is about Fanny, the O’Donnell’s adopted daughter and a rather remarkable individual. It is in this book that we first meet Musetta. “Musetta’s Waltz” is her autobiography and the third book in the series. “Who Is Sylvia” is the story about Sylvia O’Donnell and how Phil Esterházy wins her. That brings us to the current story, which takes place 37 years or so after the end of the previous story.

Being transgendered or intersexed is not the main theme of this story. This is a story about a rather large family where two people happened to be intersexed and another, now deceased, was transgendered. This is a story about how people find love, over and above everything else.

There is a little mystery that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. The clues are there. There are 34 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue. The story is complete. I am not sure how it will be posted. Regardless of the voting and comments, or lack there of, I will post it until completion. I’ll try not to let hurt feelings get in the way.

My thanks must go to Holly H. Hart for taking time from her harried life to correct the multitude of errors made while creating this story.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

---

 

It had boiled down to a flip of a coin and Clara won. They went to the clinic, and Persi held Clara’s hand while the doctor using the latest in scientific techniques injected the donor’s sperm into her fallopian tubes. They knew that she was ovulating, and the time was right.

They figuratively held their breaths for the next two weeks, and when Clara’s period didn’t start, Clara took the EPT, and they knew she was pregnant.

It was a very busy time for everyone. Helen had just moved to New York, and Demi had moved to Vienna. Demi really didn’t surprise anyone when she made her surprise and triumphant debut in a staring role. Patrick was a senior in high school and would soon be starting college. Then Demi shocked everyone by falling in love with a handsome Italian opera singer. Persi and Clara were unable to go to Vienna for the surprise on-stage proposal that everyone but Demi knew was coming. They thoroughly enjoyed the video which had been seen on many of the nation’s prime time news broadcasts. The look on Demi’s face when she realized what was happening was priceless.

Joe and Amy had four children, and as far as they were concerned, they would probably have more. Teaching school satisfied them far more than they would ever have thought possible. Amy’s brother was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force, and had made his third trip to the moon in support of the International Moon Colony. There were rumors that he would be among those training for the first Mars expedition.

Clara’s pregnancy was progressing normally, and she and Persi were happier than a pair of razor clams in the mud flats of Humboldt Bay. Then came the evening that they received a phone call from Aunt Fanny.

“Persi, can you put this on speaker or access both phones at the same time. I need to talk to you and Clara about a project I have in mind.”

“Sure, it’s on speaker, now.”

“Ok, guys, here’s the deal. I know what has been motivating you, especially Persi, in taking the direction you’ve been taking in medicine. Musetta would have been very proud of you, and maybe she is. Who knows? My accountants and lawyers have been looking over the cash flow, and they don’t have any problems with a project I have in mind. The clinics up here are self sufficient, and the estate takes care of them during the down times. With the government finally getting it right with health care, I see a great opportunity for us to get something started.

“What I want to do is establish the ‘Musetta Gigliotti O’Donnell New Beginnings Clinic’. Thank God, some of the cost of transitioning is covered by health care, but that doesn’t cover everything. I don’t want to set up a surgical clinic. There are several other clinics in the area that do outstanding work. What I want to start is a clinic that will do the psychological screening, the HRT, the counseling, and some basic assistance in helping those who otherwise would have difficulty adjusting to their gender roles. We would also provide basic healthcare for those in the program.

“We need to have an employment service for those who need work. We have to give them an alternative to what Musetta went through. You are in a gender diversity friendly area; however, there’re still the people who prey on the desperate and put them on the streets. We have to provide an alternative life choice for them.

“There is something else. We have to get the knowledge out there that will lead parents to make the right decisions for their children. Reaching parents of gender confused children is going to be tough, but we’re going to give it a try. We’re working with some agencies to develop some advertising to let parents know there is help for their children.

“Ok, how does that sound so far?”

“Fanny, that sounds wonderful, but I don’t think I could handle something like that in this point in my career. I mean, I haven’t even finished my residency.

“Clara, what do you think?”

“I agree Persi. I don’t think either of us is ready to tackle something like that.”

“I think you are closer than you realize, but I agree it would be overwhelming for you. I have contacted several other doctors and psychiatrists who are willing to participate. This was Musetta’s wish, and it has just taken a long time for things to be right for us to go ahead. I have selected a core of personnel to run the organization, and others to man the key positions. It’s the opinion of both of your mentors that you would be ideal to fill two of the positions. What do you think?

“I think I can speak for both of us, Fanny, this is exactly what we want to do,” was Persi’s affirmation.

“I agree, Fanny. This is perfect,” added Clara

It turned out that getting doctors to staff the facility was not a major problem. At the beginning, Persi and Clara would be the only full time doctors there, and other doctors would rotate in on certain days of the week. SRS and Facial Restructuring Surgeons could meet with prospective patients there also; however, the clinic would not have an on-site surgery capability. There was just too much involved to take that on, and there were other facilities in the area and across the U.S. that were already well established.

With their residencies winding down, Persi and Clara were looking forward to being able to concentrate on what they had wanted to do in their chosen careers. They had both been able to work in clinics and hospitals that handled individuals with gender identity problems. That wasn’t to say they didn’t handle other situations as well. Clara had the opportunity to treat many individuals who just had the misfortune to have endocrine problems. Diabetes, liver problems, post-menopausal women, treatment for men with prostate cancer, adrenal gland failure, thyroid problems, growth hormone problems, etc.: the list went on and on; however, she also had the opportunity to treat men and women who were transitioning. Her residency experience had been perfect.

Persi’s experience had been similarly enlightening. She worked with many individuals who had minor to serious mental problems. Some could be treated with counseling, and others required medical treatment along with the psychiatric treatment. There were a large number of patients who were there because they wanted to transition from male to female or female to male, although the latter were a definite minority. These individuals needed a confirmed diagnosis before they could start hormone replacement therapy. They also had to go through what is commonly referred to as a ‘real life test’; that is, they had to live as the opposite gender for a year or more before a doctor would perform the final surgeries necessary to adjust the individual’s body to fit his or her mental gender.

It was not a cut and dried process. Some men discovered they were really transvestites, and the HRT and surgery was not necessary. Although rarer, some women also made similar discoveries. Some people went only half way. There were a significant variety of behavior patterns, and Persi had to sort them out.

Then there were the children. Gender Identity Disorder is not a mental illness; however, many parents considered it as such. Still, there were enlightened parents who sought only the best for their children.

The toughest cases for Persi were where the parents felt they had to ‘make a man’ out of their little boy. It was difficult and very, very sad to see a child kept from happiness. The child knew what he or she wanted/needed; however, the parent felt the child had to be brainwashed into believing that their body and gender matched. It didn’t work. Some children could fake it until they reached 18, and would disappear into the darker side of being transgendered. They would prostitute themselves if necessary to get the hormones to make them look the way they felt.

Persi had seen some awful things during medical school and her residency: the poorly done breast implants leading to massive infections, the damaged livers due to improper hormone dosage, the STD’s picked up from being on the street, even ‘do-it-yourself’ castrations –some successful, and some not so successful. She also saw the suicides and attempted suicides. She saw the devastated parents who had to be told nothing could be done for the child they found hanging in his closet, other than allowing him to be an organ donor. She heard the words many times, “If only we had known.” The trouble was they had known. They just wouldn’t listen and believe.

There were also the good cases.

~*~

It had been a pretty good day. Persi had been sitting in on some pretty intensive counseling sessions, and one in particular had been very frustrating. At least it had up until now.

“Doctor, what is it going to take to cure my son of this ridiculous obsession? I am tired of having to pretend that he is my daughter just to keep him happy. My friends are starting to ask a lot of questions. It’s bad enough that he plucks his eyebrows and refuses to get his hair cut. Now I find out that when he went swimming at a friend’s houses, his friend loaned him one of her two piece suits to wear instead of his boy’s trunks. Apparently, he’s done this several times, and now he has a girl’s tan lines. Not only that, this so called ‘friend’ has been teaching him how to put on makeup.

“I brought my son here to get him cured, and all you do is to encourage him in this ridiculous fantasy of his. My husband says that if he doesn’t see any results soon he is going to enroll him in one of those military prep schools where they will make a man out of him.”

Persi had had just about enough. She was doing the counseling sessions under the supervision of a qualified psychiatrist who sat in with her. Dr. Beard was a very good psychiatrist who dealt with gender issues in youths and young adults. Persi looked at him, and he nodded slightly, as if to say run with it.

“Mrs. Burns, I know this is very difficult for you; however, I would like you to indulge me for a few minutes. I know early on in these sessions we explained what we know about the physiological reasons for the condition your son has, and I know that has been difficult for you to accept. I want you to forget all of that for a few moments.

“I want to put you through a couple of scenarios. Let your imagination go free for a while and accept the situations I present.

“You read fairy stories when you were a child, didn’t you?”

“Certainly, I liked to read.”

“Ok, this is just pretend, like the stories you read. Suppose you were a girl just entering puberty. Was that a good time for you?”

“It was. I was becoming a woman. I was getting breasts. I was going to start dating and have a boy friend, and do all those other things that girls do.”

“So I take it you were looking forward to everything that was happening.”

“Definitely: why?”

“Suppose you were just at the dawn of puberty. Nothing had really changed at this point, but it soon would. When one morning the unthinkable happens: you wake up, and you are no longer a prepubescent girl. You are a ten year old boy. Of course, you are shocked. Boys are disgusting creatures. The worst thing is everyone around you insists that you have always been a boy, and you had better stop this ridiculous carrying on right now.”

“Why that’s preposterous. That can’t happen.”

“Of course it can’t, but how would you feel if it did? You are a girl in a boy’s body, and that body is going to start to change very soon, and not the way you wanted your body to change. You are going to get big and muscular, just like your father and brothers. Not only that, they are very hairy. They are good people, and you love them; however, this obsession of yours disturbs them. They don’t understand why you don’t want to be like they are.

“You happen to have a friend, a girl, who is pretty open-minded, and you confide in her how you feel. She tells you that she read about a process that is available. It’s expensive, but it can change your cellular development so that you will go through puberty as a woman instead of a boy. The only thing you need to do is get your parent’s approval. Of course, they will always know that you were a boy who will now become a woman. All you have to do is convince them to allow you to go through the process, and you will become the woman you once were going to be.

“I know this is an imaginary situation; however, if this were the case, would you at least ask them about it?”

“Certainly, I would want to do that if that was the only way to fix what happened.”

“You do realize that as far as your parents are concerned, you have always been a boy?”

“Well, yes.”

“Fine; now I am going to change the scenario just a bit. I am going to bring us back to reality. These are some things we discussed before; however, I want to go over them again with you. We are no longer dealing with fantasy. We don’t know what starts the process happening; however, we know incontrovertibly what the results are. There’s a point in the embryonic development when things start to sort themselves out gender and sex wise. I don’t think you would disagree that there’re significant differences between the male and female brains in the way they operate. There’re also some very observable anatomical differences.

“In this early process undifferentiated sex cells start to develop into male or female sex organs, and at the same time, the differences in the brain start to show up. Some of these changes are controlled by genetics; however, quite a few are driven by hormones. This is where it gets interesting. The hard wiring for male, female or something in between behavior seems to happen at this time. Some genetic males end up with a female brain and thought processes. Some genetic females end up with a male brain and male thought processes. Some genetic males, from all outward appearances and behavior, are practically indistinguishable from normal females. Some genetic females develop many secondary male sex characteristics.

“The behavioral manifestations of what happened sometimes shows up very early; practically from the point the child’s personality starts to appear. There’re other times they don’t show up until much later. Sometimes the behavior is suppressed because the child determines he or she will catch too much grief if he or she acts the way he or she feels.

“Eugene is not going through a phase. It would be so much easier if she were. The tests are very conclusive. Every one of them indicates that Eugene is Jennifer, as she prefers to be called.

“You need to stop denying what good science has presented to you. If you would allow Jennifer to come out, you would find you have a very loving child, not the morose little boy we currently see. We can now safely stop her male puberty and allow her to go through as close as possible female puberty right along with her contemporaries. When she reaches her late teens, the surgeries can be done that will allow her to be a functioning female in every way, except for bearing children.

“I am not trying to present you with a faulty dilemma here; however, if we take action now, the results can be very satisfactory. If we don’t take action now, your child’s situation will become more and more desperate. I can paint you a lot of horror stories of what could happen without the proper treatment. I just hope you don’t let that happen.”

“Doctor, you present a pretty grim situation here, and I’m not sure I can accept it.”

“Accept what: that you have a choice of having a happy or unhappy child? You see, this is not about you or your husband. This is about a child growing up to be a happy productive adult. Denying your child the right to grow up the way her mind feels is child abuse in every sense but the legal one, and that might change shortly.

“The time is right for you to take the appropriate action. I am going to set an appointment for this Friday, so that you and your husband can come in and talk over with us any doubts that you have. There is not much time, but if we act now, I see a lot of happiness in the future for your entire family.”

The discussion continued, with Dr. Beard, backing up everything that Persi said. Maybe it finally sank in. They walked with the child’s mother out to the waiting room where an androgynous child was reading a copy of vogue. She looked up at her mother and smiled. She was really quite cute. Her eyebrows had been done with care, and there was just a light touch of makeup.

“Mommy, look at this hairstyle. I think I would like to try it.”

The mother looked at it. “I think that would look very nice on you, Jennifer.”

The child looked at her mother, and there was a questioning smile. “I love you Mommy.”

“Come on, Jennifer, we need to go home and talk to your father. We have a lot to do.”

Dr. Beard and Dr. Esterházy watched what they hoped would be a success story leave the clinic.

“Well, Persi, I think you handled that very well. You hit the nail on the head. It’s what’s best for the child. There wasn’t any doubt in this case, and we’ve known it from early on. I think there is going to be a very happy little girl there. I just hope her father will come around.”

“You know, I think he will.”

“I talked to your Aunt Fanny the other day. She didn’t have to try very hard to convince me to help out with her project. She says the remodeling of the building is going very well, and she thinks it will be ready shortly after you finish up here.

“So how’s Clara doing?”

“She’s doing ok. The morning sickness was a bit rough, but she seems to be over it now. She thinks she is starting to show. I’m not too sure. I think it’s just her weight gain. I’m going to have to watch her. She eats like a horse.

“Hey, Ira, Sylvia Esterházy, how’re you doing?”…

“Look, I’m sending a young lady, Karen Markley, up there, and she needs a wilderness pass. She’s going to meet Pat back in the Kern-Kaweah Basin.”…

“Right, she’ll take that saddle to the east of Lion Lake.”…

“No she won’t try it in one day. That’s well over 20 miles, and she’s not altitude acclimated.”…

“That’s right, by herself. I’ve drawn it all out for her, we’ve looked at the aerials from Google, and I’m going to put it into her GPS if she has one.”…

“No, Bearpaw isn’t far enough. I think she needs to get to Lodge Pole Meadow. It’s a hell of a climb from there as it is.”…

“Of course it’s important. She’s in love with him, and she’s going to surprise him by showing up at his secluded hideout.”…

“Yeah, Ira, Pat’s my youngest. It’s hard to believe the years that have gone by since we were up in Yosemite. I think Phil and I will go the ‘emeritus’ route soon. We have a couple of books in mind that we want to write. We need to go fishing more, too.”…

“I appreciate your doing this, and I’ll tell Karen to pick up the permit at Lodge Pole. Phil and I will drop by the next time we’re up that way.”…

“Well, I appreciate the offer. I’m pleased you would be interested in this sixty year plus old lady, but I’m going to hang onto Phil. Thanks just the same, you old codger. Bye.”

Karen had been outside and had retrieved her back pack from her car. She placed it on the rugged kitchen table as Sylvia was finishing her conversation. Sylvia had wanted to check out what Karen was packing and see if she could do anything to supplement or complement her provisions. Karen had not heard the first part of the conversation Sylvia had with Ira Prendergast.

Ira had worked in Yosemite the summer Phil had approached Sylvia and told her he loved her. Ira was one of many who had been taken by Sylvia’s beauty and intellect. He was also one of those many who she succinctly turned away. No one had understood her fears, and none had the patience Phil had to break through her barriers. She and Ira had remained friends over the years, and he and his future wife had attended Phil and Sylvia’s wedding.

“Well you’re OK to go into the back country. I called an old friend, and he will make sure you have your wilderness pass ready. Just pick it up at Lodge Pole at the Visitor Center. Now let’s take a look at what you’re taking with you.”

They spread the contents of the pack out on the table. There was plenty of food for the shorter trip Karen had planned to take in Olympic National Park; however, Sylvia knew Pat’s schedule, and added a couple of meals from the supply of special food kept in the pantry.

“Karen, this is going to be pretty heavy. Are you used to loads like this?”

“Yes, my short little legs are pretty strong and the pack will get lighter as the days progress.”

“This is a very nice sleeping bag,” said Sylvia as she checked out Karen’s mummy bag, “However, I think we need to trade it out for another one we have around here. Yours would keep you warmer than you need to be this time of year, anyway. I’m going to get a better one. Hang on, just a sec.”

Sylvia went down the long hall that led to many of the bedrooms. Karen could hear her rummaging around, and she soon returned with another bag.

“This one is a little lighter, and the nice thing is, if the need should arise, it will zip to Pat’s bag.” Sylvia gave Karen a knowing smile, and Karen felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. I think you have a real good chance. I think his feelings for you are a lot stronger than you realize. I’m not going to marry you two off quite yet, but I know he feels very strongly about you, in spite of what happened, whatever it was.

“Okay, does your phone have GPS? Almost all of them do these days.”

“Yes, but I don’t use it a whole lot. I did do some plotting with it when I worked on my thesis project.”

“Good, I’m going to load the route map into it to get you to where he will be camping. He should arrive there the day before you do. I’m not going to tell him you’re coming unless I see he’s going to pull up stakes. I don’t think he will. The fishing’s too good around there, and he fishes for food.

“There’re several Lupine populations up there in the side canyons and he will be collecting data for a while. I’ll let you know what he’s doing. I’ll text you.

“Now, let’s pack this stuff up and get some rest. You’ll need to leave pretty early to get to Lodge Pole before they shut the doors. You know how those government offices are.

There were hugs and kisses the next morning in the pre-dawn light. Karen didn’t expect it, but Clara and Persephone were up with Phil and Sylvia to wish her the best on her adventure. It gave her a boost of confidence that they were up to see her off. They had been through much to reach the happiness they now had and she knew they were hoping she would find hers, too.

Highway 101 south of Eureka had changed little over the years. The mountains were rugged and the canyons were deep. The highway had to follow the Eel River, and it had no choice but to bend at the canyon’s whim. California 20 east by Clearlake was just as curvy but narrower. By the time she arrived at Sacramento it was late morning, and there were still many miles to go. The turn from U.S. 99 at Fresno was well signed, and it wasn’t an hour later that she was winding up the mountain towards Grant Grove and Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park.

She made it to Lodge Pole in plenty of time, and her wilderness permit was waiting for her.

“Ms. Markley, you certainly have some friends in high places. They’re holding a spot for you at Wolverton. Do you know how to get there?”

“I guess it’s just up the road according to my map.”

“Yours is number 27, and there is a reserved tag on the pavilion.” Extending his hand to Karen, he said, “I’m Ira Prendergast, an old acquaintance of Sylvia.”

Karen pondered what was going on. She realized she was getting a lot of attention that most visitors to a national park would not. “May I ask what’s going on? I’m getting the feeling that Phil and Sylvia are able to pull strings that aren’t normally pulled.”

“You might say so. Do you know how they met?”

“Yes, I got the details of that story this week. He really loved her, and still does, and wasn’t going to let her get away.”

“She was known as the ‘Ice Princess’, and no one could get close to her, including yours truly. Phil wasn’t going to give up and, as you know, was able to win her.

“Well since then, they have done some remarkable things. They were major movers in getting the government to finally get rid of O’Shaughnessy Dam and start the restoration of Hetch Hetchy Valley. They developed methods to speed up the natural restoration of the valley once the dam was neutralized. It has really been miraculous what has happened up there, and they and their students have been responsible for it. Someday there is going to be a plaque put up there recognizing them for what they have done.

“They were almost killed up there,” added the ranger

“I know. That must have been something, and now the daughter of the guy who tried to kill them is married to their son. She is something else.”

“It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s in the works. That cliff they climbed to get out of there is going to be named the Esterházy Face. The park service is allowing rock climbing now that the lake is gone, and that’s going to be a designated climbing spot: one of many.”

Changing the subject, Ira added, “You’ve got a pretty tough hike ahead of you. The last 500 to 600 feet above Lion Lake is pretty tough. I was over it a few years ago. The route is ducked pretty good. It’s a little tricky on the other side. If you have a decision to make, just bear left. That should work. Once you’re down a few hundred feet it’s pretty simple. Just stay above the swampy areas. Even this late in the year, it’s a bit messy. Just follow the creek to the forest. There’re a couple of good camp sites, and we don’t show anyone other than Patrick in the area. It’s pretty remote.”

Karen thanked Ira for his help and headed south on the Generals Highway to the turnoff to Wolverton. She wound her way east to the campground. At one time there was a ski resort at this location, but it had been removed many years before. The old ski runs were mostly grown over by the returning forest. The old Boy Scout camp had also been removed.

She found her campsite, and in a matter of a few minutes had everything set up. She had extra dishes and food in a box separate from her back pack, so the only thing she needed from the pack was the sleeping bag, ground cloth, and foam mattress pad.

There was plenty of light, the sun had not yet set, and she took the short drive down the road to Giant Forest and took the short walk to the General Sherman Tree. Many sources mention that the tree is the world’s largest living thing; however, some maintain there is a giant underground fungus in Canada that is a single organism and much larger. Karen felt the tree had it over the fungus as far as esthetics was concerned.

The campground was busy when she returned. There were dozens of children playing in the nearby meadow. It was amazing how little the altitude bothered them. She fixed her meal as the light waned. There was wood available for the iron stoves, and Karen fired it up to prepare what she knew would be her last meal that was not at least partially made up of dehydrated food items. She didn’t have a fishing pole, but if she knew Pat at all, and if she found him, she knew she would be eating fresh fish for at least a few meals.

Anxiety was beginning to invade her mind. What if she couldn’t find him? What if she found him and he rejected her? Maybe this was all a waste of time. Maybe it wasn’t. Sylvia and others seemed to think she was doing the right thing. Then she realized something. She wouldn’t have knocked on that door earlier that week if she didn’t think she had a chance. She was just going to have to keep a positive attitude.

She spread the ground cloth, foam mattress, and sleeping bag. After locking her valuables and outer clothing in the car, she slid into the bag. It was a bit larger than hers, but comfortable enough. She watched the stars and a few satellites pass overhead, and the next thing she knew, dawn was creeping over the trees to the east.

There was an excellent community bathroom facility with hot water, and she took advantage to get the last hot shower she would be having for many days. She fixed a large breakfast, and after cleaning up, packed up and drove to the parking are by the trail head.

The sun was just peaking up over the range to the east and it left streaks of sunshine in the early morning haze left from the campfires and moisture along the ground levels. It was pleasantly cool, maybe in the upper 40’s; however, Karen knew that wouldn’t last for long. The sun would burn off the early morning inversion before too long, and the humidity would drop and the temperature would rise into the 70’s.

The climb to the ridge was fairly steep and it told on her legs a bit. It would take a while to warm up and get into her groove. She realized that her overnight stay had helped her acclimate to the altitude, but it would take several more days before she would be really comfortable. She wasn’t particularly fast; however, she was steady. Her pace was probably going to average a bit over two miles an hour until she left the trail the next day. After that it would depend on the terrain. There would be places that a turtle could give her speed competition.

Her feet felt good. She couldn’t detect any problems that might lead to blisters, and blisters could be disastrous. About 30 minutes out, she stopped and adjusted her shoulder straps. The pack was riding a bit low and it threw her balance off a bit. It was here that she was passed for the first time by other hikers. There were the friendly exchanges. “Where are you heading?”…, etc. Many were going to nearby lakes on day trips, and some were going to Bearpaw Meadows for their first night and points beyond after that.

Bearpaw was a good first night stop. There were tents, toilet facilities, and running water. It was about eleven and a half miles, which was a pretty good trek; however, as Sylvia had said, Karen needed to get a bit further up the Kaweah so that she could make her assault on the pass out of Lion Lake with plenty of daylight left.

After more than a two hour climb, she could look out over the valley and the Middle Fork of the Kaweah River far below. Alta Peak was on her left and Tharp’s Rock was to its right. She had already taken several pictures, and she paused to take some more and rehydrate. She would need to replenish her water before the day was over. On her way again she came to a small meadow and a nearly dry creek. The sign indicated this was Mehrten Creek and Meadow. There was enough water for mosquitoes, and Karen chose not to linger. Her GPS indicated she had walked a little over four miles and was averaging less than two miles an hour. She needed to step it up a bit if she could.

She noted a cloud layer was moving in, and hoped it didn’t mean rain. It was sort of a good news-bad news situation. The clouds would help keep things cooler, and if it did rain, thunderstorms were not very likely. She did have a light weight rain parka, and that would keep her mostly dry. It would also keep her warmer than she would like to be.

The trail clung to the side of the canyon for several miles before it made its descent into the Bucks Creek canyon. Contrary to popular belief, downhill was not all that much of a blessing. It can be very hard on the knees, especially when there are significant steps down. A thousand foot drop and it was lunch time.

There was a log bridge, not really needed this late in the year, and Karen found a nice picnic spot a hundred feet up the stream. She removed her boots and socks, and cooled off in the chilly water. She checked her feet carefully but didn’t see any problems developing.

Some trail mix and water, and she was soon ready to make the last major climb of the day – a thousand foot climb to the ridge and Bearpaw Meadow. It would take an hour.

The first drops of rain hit her as she neared the top. She could see the ceiling was lowering, and guessed it would probably be raining for a while. She donned her light weight rain poncho, and fifteen minutes later arrived at the Bearpaw Meadow campground where she found an unused pavilion near a water spigot and replenished her water supply. As the canteen was filling she heard footsteps and turned to see a woman approaching. She was obviously a Park Service employee.

“Hi, are you Karen Markley?”

“Yes. Is anything wrong?”

“Not at all, I’m Sandy Patterson, and Ira asked that I keep an eye out for you. You’re making good time.

“I wanted to let you know that there has been a puma sighting in the area. You may have seen the warning signs. Keep your eyes open and above all, don’t run or jog. That seems to trigger them to attack.

“Ira said you are heading for the Kern-Kaweah Basin. That’s a nice area. I think the best camp site for tonight is just below the outlet of Tamarac Lake. It’s just over four miles, and there is no one overnighting up there as far as we know. It will probably take a bit more than two hours, maybe three, the way you are walking. There’s no wood burning up there, so you will have to use your stove.

“The rain should be through in a few hours and you should be able to dry out. Tomorrow might be a bit different. The forecast is for thunderstorms. So, get an early start so you can get over the pass before they start to build. There’s no shelter at all until you get to the forest where your friend is camped.”

Pumas, mountain lions: Karen hadn’t given them much thought. After almost being wiped out by the bounty hunters, the lion population in California had made a significant recovery. They had their place in keeping the deer population under control. The problem was that they couldn’t distinguish a jogger from fair prey, and there had been a number of incidents of fatal attacks where runners and lion territory met.

Karen thanked Sandy for her advice, and put her pack back on and donned her poncho over it. There was a gradual climb for the next mile and a half as the Middle Fork of the Kaweah gradually rose toward its headwaters. The main trail continued north to the Roaring River basin, and Karen’s desired route switchbacked down to what was now just an average sized stream.

By the time she reached the bottom of the canyon she could see breaks in the overcast toward the southwest. Where she was, the rain was still steady, but light. The trail crossed the stream, and then continued along the south side of the stream toward the east. It was easy to see the route, but the trail obviously did not get much use. She still had a mile and a half to go, and fatigue was starting to set in.

It was another 45 minutes, and regardless of where she was she was going to spend the night there. There was a nice grove of Lodge Pole and Foxtail Pines, and midst the trees there was an excellent campsite that had been used in the past. There was a relatively level spot that had a nice layer of the short pine needles from previous years that would make a nice mattress pad once she got rid of a few of the cones.

The rain had stopped and the sun was peaking from below the cloud’s edge to the west. Rain was still falling to the east, and as she looked to the area to the east of Lion Lake, a rainbow formed and spanned the pass she would be traversing the next morning. ‘That’s nice,’ she thought. In spite of the damp chill, she felt very pleasantly warmed.

She fixed a meal of reconstituted stew. The package said the meal was for two; however, she finished it all and had a vanilla pudding desert to top it off.

She cleaned her utensils and placed everything in her back pack. Looping a rope over a branch she hoisted her pack about ten feet off the ground to discourage bears. She had heard stories about bears actually diving from branches to get to hoisted food. She didn’t think that would be a problem as she was going to be there.

Her sleeping bag felt especially comfortable, and as she was drowsing off she was brought back to full alert by the sound of some coyotes howling in the distance. It didn’t particularly bother her, and she easily went back to sleep.

It was several hours later, when she was dreaming something that she would never be able to recall, when she suddenly realized a woman was screaming. Then she was awake, and the caterwauling continued. It wasn’t too far away, and she had to admit it was one of the most frightening sounds she had ever heard. She knew it wasn’t human, and finally realized it must be a puma. It was probably on the other side of the lake.

The screaming finally stopped, and although Karen knew she would never be able to sleep for the rest of the night, she was soon sound asleep until the dawn.

Karen awoke as the early morning light infiltrated the valley. Something got her attention right away. It wasn’t cold, or at least it wasn’t frigid like it could be at 9200 feet in the pre-dawn hours. In fact, it was almost pleasantly warm.

She looked towards Triple Divide Peak, and could see wisps of clouds forming on the lee side. That meant only one thing. There was a lot of moisture in the air, and thunderstorms were definitely in the offing later that day. If anything, she wanted to be at the top and over before the storms struck. ‘I had better get my ass in gear,’ she thought.

She hastily ate her break fast and finished packing her gear. The sleeping bag was easy. It was stuffed into a waterproof bag and strapped with the role-up pad and ground cloth to her pack. She hoisted her pack, and was on her way.

Her route took her around the north side of Tamarac Lake to where the creek from Lion Lake joined it. There was a small meadow where the inlet stream meandered. There were clumps of willows throughout the area and she spotted the tracks in one of the declivities that had recently dried up. They were cat tracks, but these weren’t your garden variety house cat tracks. These were mountain lion tracks, and from the looks of them, there were at least two of the beasts as some of the paw prints overlaid others.

The next thing she noted was the tufts of fur. Most of it was light tan in color; however, off to one side there was some grayer hair. Only a few feet further and she realized the cause of the previous night’s ruckus. At the edge of a clump of willows was the hind leg and haunch of a recently killed deer. Karen envisioned the scenario of what had probably happened.

A lion had probably killed a deer somewhere close by and then had been jumped by a second lion intent on stealing the deer for itself. There had been a fight, and that was the source of the noise. Apparently, the lion had dismembered the deer. She looked around and couldn’t see any more of the carcass, so one or both of the lions had made off with the rest of it.

Karen decided there was probably no reason for her to be hanging around, and turned to face the 1,800 foot climb ahead of her to Lion Lake. There were no trees, just tufts of scrub and grass where there was enough soil for something to set down roots. The stream was mostly confined to a long crevasse that seemed to be the point where two types of rock met.

It was a step at a time over the mostly barren bed rock. Ahead she could see a number of slides and indications of past avalanches that had come off the ridge to the west of Triple Divide Peak. The climb was steeper and more difficult than she had expected. As the stream turned more to the east she found she had to cross the first of several rock slides. Finally she came to a sparse grove of Foxtail Pines. She could see that the lake was only a few hundred yards ahead. She crossed a rather large rock slide that had completely covered the outlet stream, and just ahead was Lion Lake in its seemingly sterile beauty. She changed her mind about it being sterile when a trout surfaced a few feet away from the shore of the outlet area.

The clouds were starting to build, and she still had a thousand foot climb ahead of her. ‘Well, I’d better get my poncho out now, while I have a chance,’ she thought. ‘Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Of course, she had no poncho. She turned and looked back the way she had come. She knew exactly where her poncho was. It was hanging on a nail that someone had kindly put into a Lodgepole Pine where she had camped the previous night. The poncho had been wet and she didn’t want to pack it that way. Well it was an easy decision. She would go on without it.

Mentally kicking herself in the ass, she started around the north side of the lake. It would have been nice to have a boat. As she made her way around the shore, stepping from one rock/boulder to another, she could see that going around the south side of the lake would have been impossible. There were near vertical cliffs plunging into the depths that were beginning to look unfriendly under the overcast.

About half way around, she ran out of the grey granite boulders and came to a mass of solid pale salmon colored rock. She had to scramble a hundred or more feet up the mountain to get around it, and then it was back to the granite boulders. She tried to maintain as much altitude as possible and aimed toward a large outcrop they had noted when looking at the satellite photos. ‘This certainly ain’t no picnic,’ she grumbled. ‘Pat better be very happy to see me.’

She was getting close to the unnamed lake that sat about 200 feet above Lion Lake, and started looking for the piles of stones, sometimes called ‘ducks’, that would indicate the route to the top of the pass 800 feet above her. The weather was a major concern now. She hadn’t heard any thunder, but there had been a few drops of rain; nothing serious yet.

Then she spotted the first pile of rocks and then another beyond it. They were indicating the only possible route. It didn’t look easy; however, it was marked. So that must be it. She would do it one step at a time. Soon she found she had to use her arms to help pull her way up. After a while, the little piles of rocks became redundant. There was only one way to go, and that was up. Finally, up became down. She was at 12,000 feet, and now all she had to do was get to the bottom of the canyon before the rain started in earnest. That was not to be.

The rain started coming in sheets when she was about 200 feet below the summit. There was no shelter. She pressed on slipping and sliding, thankful that she had good boots. After dropping another two or three hundred feet she was able to find a semblance of shelter against an outcrop of granite. She was out of the main blast of wind, but the rain swirled around and she couldn’t avoid it. At least, she felt, she was not likely to be struck by lightning. That thought was put on hold when there was a brilliant flash and simultaneous explosion of thunder. Lightning had hit the slope not a hundred feet from her. There was nothing she could do about it but wait it out.

She was soaked to the skin.

The storm gradually moved to the other side of Triple Divide Peak and headed for Kings Canyon. Before she continued on, Karen made an assessment of her situation. She was soaked and cold, but least her feet were dry. There was blood running down one leg from a nasty scrape she was unaware she had incurred. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but she was sure she would be bruised and sore that night. There wasn’t much to be done about it for the moment.

The contents of her back pack were dry, so there wasn’t a problem there. She thought about changing into dry clothes, and then thought better of it. The ones she had on would dry out as she walked on. She took off her wet garments and stood there in the nude. Goose bumps covered her skin and her nipples puckered into hard little points. She wrung out the outer garments as best she could, and was surprised at the amount of water they held.

The sun was now bright, and the sky was mostly clear and bright blue. She could hear the offending thunderstorm rumbling as it headed northwest. She started to put on her panties, and then said, “Fuck it.” She opened her pack and got out a dry pair. She would make that concession. She dressed and returned to her mission who was about two and one-half miles away.

Heading down the steep slope, she rounded an outcropping, and spotted a lake that looked like a large bird with outstretched wings standing on a rock. She paused for a few second’s breather and took a few more pictures.

The slope was getting easier, and soon she was at the small stream that was the Kern-Kaweah River. The sun was warming her, and she was much drier than before. There was no major trail; however, she could sense there was a path of sorts. She was now making the best time she had been able for the entire trip. The trees that enclosed Pat’s campsite were only a mile away.

~*~

Pat Esterházy had been having an interesting day. He had left his camp early that morning, and headed toward Colby Pass. About halfway to the top he left the trail and followed a small rivulet to a glacial cirque where there was a nice patch of lupines of the type he was interested in. He gathered some seed and plant samples, carefully documented his position and other information, and then uploaded it to the computer at his folk’s home. Before he turned off the phone there was a text message from his mother.

“Hi, how’s it going? Are you staying at that spot up the hill from Gallat’s Lake? When do you think you’ll be heading back? Mom"

He quickly keyed back,

“It’s going well. I haven’t seen many people to speak of. I am going to have to come back and collect data from here to Forester Pass later on. The terrain looks good for what I want to investigate. I have my spot to myself. There are two more areas I want to get to on this watershed, and then I will head back. I think I‘ll finish up in five or six days. Pat”

Noting that the weather was getting a bit iffy, he decided to head back to camp, and to try to hide from the rain that looked certain to get there. He arrived at his camp before the storms. Then watched them pass close enough to drop about sixteen drops of rain. He could see the lightning striking close by, and knew he wasn’t immune to being hit. He kept low and felt that because of the large number of trees surrounding him that his chances were as good as any.

The storms soon passed, and the sun was bright. He took off his shirt and basked in the warm rays as he made entries in his note book. He wasn’t paying much attention when he realized he was hearing footsteps approaching. He looked up to see a back packer approaching. Several things got his attention immediately. The first was that it was a woman; the second was that she was short; and the third was that it was Karen Markley.

“Hi, mind if I join you?”

“Wha…, er, no, not at all. Damn, you’re a mess. What did you do to your leg?”

“I guess I slipped back there,” she said, pointing off to the south. “Those rocks got a bit slippery in that rain.”
Pat was a bit tongue tied. Then there was this feeling he couldn’t describe, and it would be a while before he could. There was definitely a rush of adrenaline and a tightening in his stomach.

“Here, let me help you with your pack. Wow! That’s a pretty good load you’re carrying. What are you doing here? Where are you goin?”

“Oh, I’m on a bit of a walkabout. School starts in a few weeks, and I wanted to get out one more time before I had to start preparing for my life as a teacher. You told me this was a neat area, and I decided to see if it was worth the trip.

“Where are you going, Pat?”

“Well, I have about two more days’ worth of work here. Then I was going to go down to Nine Lakes Basin. I figured I would have two or three days over there. As far as data was concerned I would finish up over there. I thought I might go over to Little Five and Big Five Lakes, have some fun, and take care of a couple of other things. From there I’ll take the saddle over to Spring Lake, Glacier Pass and back to Mineral King.”

“Well, I guess I’m going that way, too. Mind if I tag along?”

“No, not at all, that would be great.”

Karen didn’t realize it right away, but Pat was feeling the same sense of elation she was.

“Where can I put my sleeping bag? I need to tend to this leg and change clothes. I got caught in that rain, and I lost my rain poncho. I think I left it at my last camp. That was real dumb.”

“There’s plenty of room in my tent. Why don’t you put it there? I’ll behave myself.”

Karen smiled as she silently said to herself, ‘I hope you will, Pat. I hope you will; however, your definition of behave and mine might have slightly different context.’

They placed the bags side by side under the shelter. “Well, look at that. You and I have the same type of bag. That’s certainly a coincidence.”

“Yes, it is.” was Karen’s subdued reply.

“Let’s take a look at that leg,” said Pat as he rummaged through his things for first aid supplies. He motioned for Karen to sit on a rock, and had her take off her boots. He sat on a log opposite her, and carefully lifted her foot to his lap. He took an antiseptic cleansing pad, and cleaned the scraped area. There were a couple of deep gouges and some lesser scrapes.

He was strictly business on the outside, but inside he was something else. What a cute little foot. She is certainly strong to have carried that pack. Her skin sure is smooth.’ Pat wasn’t aware of it at first, but he was getting an erection. Karen was having similar problems. She was getting aroused, too.

Pat finished dressing her wound, and as he straightened up, strictly as an after thought, he brought the edge of his finger nails up the arch of her foot. Her foot and toes curled, and she jumped slightly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“That’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m just ticklish. Look, is there a place where I can clean up a bit? I need to change clothes so I can rinse these out. I got soaked in that rain, and need to get rid of some trail dirt and sweat.”

“I just use the creek to wet down, then soap down and rinse off away from the creek. I can look the other way if it bothers you.”

Karen grabbed her clean clothes, some biodegradable soap and the canvas bucket. If things worked out she was going to have to get used to this sort of thing, anyway. She made her way down to the river, although it could hardly be called a river this time of year. The gin clear water was beautiful, and the decomposed granite sand made a nice beach. She removed the gauze pad Pat had placed on her leg, and the large bandage covering the nearly healed cut on her arm. She carefully set them aside.

She was glad she’d had a chance to warm up after being soaked to the skin, because she was definitely getting chilled again as she waded out and submerged in the pool. She waded back to the shore, quickly soaped, then rinsed off. Even with the recent rain, the air was dry enough that she quickly dried off. She reattached the bandage on her leg, and determined she didn’t need one on her arm anymore.

She felt pleasantly refreshed as she walked to the campsite. Pat seemed glad to see her, and she was certainly glad to see him. Now she was going to have to determine which way this reunion was going to go. His mother had said he might need some encouragement, but she didn’t want to frighten him away. She thought she knew why he suddenly shied away from her. She was certain she hadn’t done anything overtly wrong. There was somebody else involved, and she knew damn well who it was. She knew there was time now. There wouldn’t be any outside interference. She was going to be aggressive and maybe not too subtle.

The sun was getting close to the artificial horizon created by the ridge north of Triple Divide Peak. Pat was nowhere to be seen; however, she could hear some noise coming from a few hundred yards away. She recognized the sound. Pat was gathering firewood.

She followed the sounds, and soon found Pat knocking knots out of a partially rotten log. “Need some help?”

“Sure. These old knots are full of pitch and make an excellent fire. Why don’t you gather up those I knocked loose? I think I have enough for tonight and tomorrow morning.

“I think we should have some fresh meat tonight. Let’s take this wood back, and I’m going to catch some trout for dinner. It shouldn’t take too long. While we’re fishing we can hydrate some of those dried vegetables you brought, and then fix a nice dinner.”

‘While we’re fishing,’ thought Karen. ‘He wants me to go fishing with him.’ She smiled to herself.

They dumped the wood by the fire place Pat had constructed, and then added some dehydrated vegetables to a pot of water. Pat grabbed his pole. “Come on. These fish are easy to fool if you know what to do. I haven’t seen any bear around here, but one never knows. We don’t need to be gone very long.”

It was just like Pat said. Within 20 minutes he had four nice Rainbow trout. Fifteen minutes after that, they were ready for cooking. Karen offered her assistance but Pat refused it. He did seem to be in a good mood, so Karen thought she might pose a question or two.

“Pat, what happened with us? Why did we drift apart?”

He turned to her with a slightly puzzled look. “I don’t know. I guess I couldn’t cope with your lifestyle.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I guess it’s none of my business, really. I’m just not into playing the field.

“Karen, I like you a lot. I just didn’t feel right about thinking about corralling you. I’m kind of a one person guy, if you know what I mean. What you do is your business.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my fooling around on you? What gave you the impression I did that?”

“Shit, I wish you hadn’t brought this up Karen. Let’s just say several people told me to watch out: that you had broken a few hearts in the past, and I guess I just didn’t want to be one of them.”

“Was one of them Brenda Filzen?”

“Well, er, yes, and Brad Bishop told me the same thing.”

‘So that confirms who did it. I was certain Brenda had something to do with it. She always was a sore loser,’ Karen reflected. ‘Brad Bishop! Pat, you dolt, didn’t you know he’s gay and a toady to Brenda. Well, what am I going to do about this? I think it’s time to right this cart.’

“Pat, I’m sorry I hurt you. I guess I didn’t understand how you felt. Can we let that go, and at least be friends for these few days?

“Sure, I guess so.”

Dinner was cordial but quiet. Karen thought about killing Brenda when she returned; however, she realized that Brenda’s scheme had failed. She had not won Pat over. That had been very obvious toward the end of the last semester at San Louis Obispo.

They cleaned up the dishes, and had a hot cup of tea. The food was secured off the ground, and they both sat in silence.

Finally, Pat said, “Karen, I think I’m going to take care of things and clean up. That water's no colder now than it was this afternoon. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

This was it! Karen knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to fix several problems at once. She took care of nature’s call, and returned to the tent. Zipping the two bags together was easy. She freshened herself with a moist towelette, and slipped naked into the double bag.

Pat returned a few minutes later wearing only his shorts and camp shoes. As she suspected, he slept in the nude. He didn’t realize until he slid part way into the sleeping bag that all was not the same as it had been earlier. The clincher was when he brushed up against Karen’s nude body.

“Shit, Karen, what are you doing?”

“Pat, I want you to shut up and listen to me.”

“But….”

“Shush. Pat, have I ever lied to you? Did I ever do anything that would make you mistrust me? I’m not talking about what other people have said. I am talking about me. Did I?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then, why didn’t you ask me about my past. I would have told you the truth.”

“I guess I didn’t want to hear it from you. It was bad enough that I heard it from the others.”

“You mean Brenda and Brad?

“Well, yeah, and there was….”

“Stop, don’t tell me. I’ll bet Dan Shobe told you the same thing.”

“Yeah, he was another one. There were others, too.”

Karen had slid closer to Pat, and was now lightly pressed up against him. She loved the feel of his still cool skin against hers. She slid her hand across his belly, feeling the wiry hairs that sprung from there. Pat jumped slightly but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go.

“Pat, I learned something about you when we first met. That was I could trust you completely to do the right thing. You never did anything to make me feel any other way. Now I want you to trust me. I have never done anything to hurt you. I never will.

“Please trust me this time. I promise you won’t regret it.”

By now her hand had slid to his groin, and she found his physical arousal very apparent. ‘Very interesting,’ she thought. ‘I can’t imagine how that will fit. We’ll just have to see.’

She released his cock, reached up to his hand, and pulled it to her breast. “I know mine aren’t very big and certainly not as big as Brenda’s; however, if you will give me a chance, I think you will find they are very satisfactory.”

She slid on top of him, found his lips amidst the facial hair, and kissed him. ‘That tickles, but it’s worth it.’ “Please trust me this time, Pat. Don’t run from me.”

His hand had not left her breast, and was gently pulling on her hard nipple. “I think there is something else that you can do with these.” She slid up further and lowered her breast to his mouth. He didn’t fight it and drew her turgid nipple into his mouth while teasing it with his tongue. Karen had experienced the wonderful feeling of having her breast being tended to by her roommate. This was a lot better. There was a delicious feeling in her breasts, and it was being reciprocated in her groin. She could feel her clit thumping and her vagina contracting.

Pat’s hand had wandered south, and was now moving through her dampening curls. He gently caressed her labia and parted them, running his finger along the inner surfaces. He found her hard little nubbin and circled it with his moistened finger. She bucked against his ministrations and suddenly came like she never had before. Karen was not a screamer, but Pat realized what had happened. She tensed suddenly and broke into a sheen of perspiration. She gently collapsed on his chest while trying to catch her breath. “God, that was good.”

“Karen….”

“Shut up. We’re not quite through. There’re some other things that need to be taken care of.” She slid back a little and grasped his erection. It hadn’t lost any of its aroused state. She had unzipped her side of the sleeping bag enough to allow it to fall back as she rose to her knees, grazing the top of the tube tent with her head. Grasping him gently, she moved his erection back and forth, up and down, and between her labia. Her state of arousal had been high earlier, and it was returning. She could feel her lubrication building. ‘Well it’s either now or later, and it’s going to be now.’ She instinctively found the place, and gently lowered herself. Her outer walls accommodated him quite nicely. She knew where her hymen was and didn’t let him quite reach it, teasing him by pulling back. She was really feeling good, and knew she was about to come again. She could also sense he was getting close. Pulling back almost all the way, she furiously diddled her clit. The orgasm built, and she dropped her weight on him. Her hymen tore like wet toilet paper, and she was impaled on his length.

Her timing had been perfect. He muttered, “Oh fuck!” She could feel him pulsing, and he was gasping for breath. Once again she lay on his chest.

“Shit, that hurt!”

“Damn, Karen, I didn’t know. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, and I love you.”

~*~
Author's Note: Next: Now the two reconciled lovers have some time to themselves. They are so in tune with each other and they find that any doubts about their love for each other evaporate. Pat decides his research project is over for the time being as he has a much more important project occupying him. Karen advises him of unintended consequences and Pat has no problems with what she tells him. Eventually, they leave the mountains to return to Esterházy ranch. Pat and Karen have two announcements to make; however. There is another surprise that Karen never expected.

Thanks again to Holly H. Hart for her very professional assistance. My thanks to Jenna in Florida for taking care of the next episode for me.

Portia Bennett

---

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudo!
Click the Good Story! button above to leave the author a kudo:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.