tagErotic CouplingsThe Old Man of the Mountain

The Old Man of the Mountain

byMrFalkirk©

Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a cave carved out of the south side of a mountain. The cave sat in the middle of 50 acres of forests and cliffs that the man owned. The exterior of his cave looked like any other jumble of rocks. The living room window consisted of a single 25 square foot piece of non-reflective glass coated on the outside with a dull rocky pattern so as to blend in with the surroundings. The interior was a work of art with his living room and kitchen combination on the first floor and his bedroom, with a smaller window of the same material, was on the upper level. In the corner of the living room was a small alcove with a door which opened to his bathroom and toilet. Behind the wall at the rear of his living room was the natural extension of the cave which ran for hundreds of yards into the rock and was used for food storage. The rough floor of the cave was covered over with a framework of flooring that would not be out of place in the fanciest of houses owned by the rich.

The man was not poor financially and had chosen to withdraw from society to live his life in this manner. After losing the love of his life to an insidious disease he found people no longer appealed to him on anything but a sexual basis. Interaction with friends had come to a standstill as he withdrew more and more from the everyday life around him. His depression drove most of their friends away and he did not pursue making any new friends to replace them.

He had few bills to pay with an amazing amount of money resting in several very large certificates of deposits with several different banks, all within a few hundred miles of his cave home. He dressed as if he had little or no money though his clothing was clean, whenever he decided to wear any. Most of the time he wandered his stretch of woodland as naked as the day he was born some forty odd years ago. His body was not as hard as the rock with which he surrounded himself, but he had not allowed it to go to flab. His cock, when extended which was at least half the time, was at least eight inches in length and about three or four in circumference.

He had his collection of porn movies to watch on his DVD equipped HD television set and his collection of porn novels to read if the mood overtook him, but most of the time he surfed the internet looking for something he may never find--someone willing to permanently live the life he had chosen to live, hidden away on the side of a mountain with the nearest neighbor easily five miles away.

Masturbation was a release that he was familiar with though he detested the thought of having to resort to such means to relieve the pressure in his genitals. That his genitals needed relief several times a day was an inconvenience, but not become his desired method of having sex.

Then came the fateful morning that changed his life forever. He was walking along the lower cliff facing wearing nothing but a pair of boots on his feet when he came across a young woman laying nearly naked across the path near one edge of his property.

The night before had brought high winds and heavy rains, but this girl hadn't fallen before or during the rain because there was mud all over her from head to foot. The man picked her up and carried her back to his cave house putting her on the sofa while he cleaned the mud off of her and removed her torn clothing, what little of it there was on her battered and bruised body.

It was painfully obvious to him that despite her bruises she was a gorgeous woman with somewhat heavy but firm breasts, a fairly narrow waist, and generous hips. Her legs were long and when he parted them to clean the mud off her, he couldn't help but notice the cleft with its large lips between them. He was tempted to slip his finger into her grotto since it had been a very long time between female companions, but he decided that if he did know her carnally, it would be on her terms, not his.

He then carried her up to his bed and put her naked beneath the covers. From time to time he checked on his guest and mopped her brow when the sweat formed.

Toward evening while he was fixing some soup to take up to the girl, he heard a noise and looked up to find her staring at him. She was wrapped in the thin blanket that he had left at the foot of the bed. In deference to her, he had already put on a pair of cut-off sweat pants but was otherwise naked.

"Where am I?"

"Ah, I see you are back amongst the living. Good."

"Where am I and where are my clothes?"

"You are safe. You are where nobody will hurt you. You are my guest and I protect my guests from harm. You had very few clothes on when I found you, but you can find them over there in the trash can. That's all they are fit for right now."

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question. My name is Ian. Welcome to Culloden Cave."

"Culloden Cave?"

"My home. It's cut into the side of the mountain at the base of which I found your partially clad body this morning. Sit down. I've got some soup that may help you get some of your strength back and I don't need you falling and getting blood all over my clean floor. Now as I was saying, I found you this morning during one of my walks and I carried you back here, stripped your filthy and torn clothes off of your body and cleaned you from head to foot. By the way, I'm glad you are a natural redhead."

"You brought me here? Who gave you the right to bring me any where?"

"Whoa! Hold on there. If you want to be back out there on the trail in your half-naked state, put those clothes on and get the hell out of my house!"

"But, I can't put those clothes on. They're beyond torn. They're filthy rags."

"Yes, they are. Who are you and how did you end up laying half naked on my property?"

"I'm sorry. My name is Janice but all my friends call me Jan."

"OK, that's a start. Here's your soup. Watch out--it's hot. Now, Jan where are you from?"

"I'm from Atlanta."

"Little girl, you are a very long way from home. As you can see, this is not Atlanta or even a suburb of Atlanta. Hell, Charlottesville, Virginia is closer than Atlanta and that isn't very close by."

"Just where am I?"

"You are in the Blue Ridge of eastern Tennessee. The closest town or city of any size is Bristol and that'll take you a while to get to across those mountains to the west. Damascus, Virginia isn't too far as the crow flies, but by road it'd take you the better part of a day and a half to walk it."

"You said I was in a cave? This looks like a pretty nice house to me."

"Thank you. I've tried to make sure that I have all the comforts of the outside world including television and my computer. I even have a telephone if you need one. But, this house is actually a cave, just a cave that has been rearranged to suit my wants and needs. Now, tell me, Jan from Atlanta, how did you come to be in this forgotten part of Tennessee? And what's your last name?"

"I don't know. The last thing that I remember was going to a party with my boyfriend in Atlanta. I can't remember my last name."

"And when was that party, Jan 'no last name?'"

"That was on Saturday night. It was at the house of one of my girlfriends and she had an open bar. I-I guess we drank a bit too much, but I've never been so drunk that I didn't know where I was."

"Well, today is Tuesday. I found you this morning about a half mile from here. You were laying in the mud at the foot of a thirty foot drop. Your clothes were torn and you were not wearing underwear. Do you always go to parties without underwear?"

"Hell no! I mean, no I don't. I'm not that kind of girl."

"I never said you were." I placed a bowl of soup on the table and sat down ready to eat my supper now that my guest had been fed.

"Well what do I do for clothes?"

"No, Jan, that might be a problem. You see, since I live her clothing is the exception rather than the rule. I have a set of clothes that I go to the market in every six months or so, but little else. i do have an extra pair of cut off shorts you can wear. They may be a bit loose. I don't know about anything to cover your lovely breasts, but maybe we can improvise something. We'll see. Eat up. Your soup is going to get cold. You don't sound like your from Atlanta."

"Actually, I'm one of those damn Yankees that moved south and stayed. I was born and raised in Boston."

"Yes, that would be more in keeping with your accent. So, what kind of work do you do?"

"I'm a consultant with a large company that makes and sells lingerie. I guess I'm pretty good at it. I've got more money than I know what to do with and can really enjoy myself without working too hard any more."

"You look fine without the lingerie."

"How would you know? Oh, that's right, you've seen me totally naked. Thank you, for both the compliment and for cleaning me up. Hmmmmm. This soup is heavenly. What is it?" As she ate, the blanket slipped from her shoulders exposing one of her breasts with its pert little nub of a nipple standing out from the tip.

"You're very welcome. It was hard for me not to take advantage of the situation, but I managed to resist temptation. The soup? Just odds and ends from the refrigerator and a little pasta and diced tomatoes. Nothing fancy, but it keeps the body functioning."

"Well, it is good."

"Thank you." I finished my soup as she finished hers. I retrieved a pair of shorts that I had outgrown and handed them to her. Without a thought, she dropped the blanket revealing herself to me. My cock immediately tented my own shorts as she slipped hers on. Then I rummaged around and found a forgotten t-shirt that was full of holes, but which would cover her breasts.

She glanced down at my genitals and smiled. "I see that you do think I am pretty."

"I-I-I'm sorry. I should have turned around or something."

"No, it's your house. If I had wanted privacy I would have asked for it. You've seen my naked body so what's to hide? I'm just more comfortable walking around in clothes than I am without them."

"I understand. I'm just the opposite. I'm much more comfortable naked."

We sat and watched a few comedies on television until it was quite dark outside. I glanced at the clock over the television and saw that it was way past my normal bedtime. I got up and started to straighten out the living area.

"Ian, I only saw one bed upstairs."

"That's because there's only me and I very seldom, if ever, have any overnight company."

"Well, it's getting dark out there and I don't think I can walk to Damascus tonight, do you?"

"Of course not."

"I'll just take the couch and sleep on it tonight."

"No, you're a guest in my house and you get the bed. I insist."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed. If you want, we can share it."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It's been almost six months since I've been in the same bed as a woman and I can't promise I will behave."

"Well, Ian, there is behaving and then there is behaving. We'll just have to see which one you and I are going to choose." She walked past him and walked up the ramp to the second floor bedroom. There she pulled the t-shirt off and shucked the shorts stepping out of them. She stood beside the bed wearing nothing but her red hair and a smile.

Ian had slowly followed her up the ramp and dropped his useless shorts to the floor. His cock stood straight out before him like a medieval lance looking to spear an unsuspecting foe. She reached out her hand and took his prick into her hands pulling it gently from the root to the tip in slow measured strokes. Ian was groaning almost immediately and when she dropped to her knees to inhale his cock with her mouth, the moistness put him past the point of no return and he exploded in her mouth sending spurt after spurt of hot cum down her greedily swallowing throat and into her stomach. She milked every last drop from his now shrinking dick and smacked her lips as she rose to her feet.

"Now, that is what I call behaving!"

"I can't believe that I came that fast or had so much cum in my balls."

"You tasted good lover. Want to repay the favor?"

For an answer, Ian gently lowered her to the bed and spread her legs apart. He stiffened his tongue and drove it hard against her hooded clit. Then he softened his attack and licked her pussy lips from top to bottom over and over again until she was panting and grunting her way to a shuddering orgasm that left her totally weak.

Ian marvelled at how tight her pussy was around his tongue and wondered how it would feel wrapped around his cock which was now dripping a second load of pre-cum all over the sheets. As he moved up her body, Jan reached down grabbing his ass with one hand and leading his cock to her honey hole with the other. Ian penetrated her slowly wanting to savor the exquisite pain and joy of the moment. Her pussy was as tight around his dick as he had imagined it would be and felt like a hot, moist skin-tight glove as he slowly sank balls deep in her love box. He held that position for a few seconds just savoring the feelings greeting his cock in her warm cunt. Then, as if on cue, they both began a slow languid movement.

Since the edge had been taken off both of their needs, the fuck was slow and easy building steadily to a climax that both knew would be extra strong. Slowly the pace quickened until his cock was pistoning in and out of her twat as fast as a jackhammer. She met his every thrust with one of her own and as her excitement rose, her pussy moistened even more making it easier and easier for Ian to penetrate to her cervix. When neither thought they could take any more, Ian's balls began to churn and spew forth its hot live giving fluid. His cum set Jan off like a firecracker and her body shuddered its way to another massive climax.

Still joined at the genitals they both fell into a deep sleep and slept until Ian had to use the bathroom in the morning.

As he made his morning coffee, Ian turned on the morning news from Bristol. The lead story of the day was the on-going search for a young lady named Janice Walters who was last seen in Atlanta on Saturday night. The police were asking for help from anybody who may have information about her whereabouts. She had been reported missing by her husband. Then the station showed a recent photo of the woman still sleeping in my bed upstairs.

Half an hour later Jan came downstairs, still as naked as the day she was born.

"Well, I know who you are."

"You do?"

"Yes. You're all over the morning news. Your name is Janice Walters from Atlanta and your husband reported you missing."

"I know I am not married!"

"According to the news report, your husband Greg went to the police when you didn't return from a party."

"Greg's my boyfriend, not my husband. Oh my God! I am beginning to remember now."

"Remember what?"

"I think I need to use your telephone. I need to call my lawyer in Atlanta. It's important."

"I'm sure it is. Help yourself. You want me to step outside?" Ian pointed out the telephone on the wall near the door.

"No. You may need to hear what I have to say." She picked up the telephone and dialed the number without hesitation from memory.

"Ernie? This is Jan. ...I'm in east Tennessee. I'm fine. Listen, did Greg give you some papers last week or even as recently as yesterday? ...He did. When? Yesterday. ...What were they? ...A marriage certificate? Ernie, I didn't get married. When was it dated? ...Last week. Ernie I was with you that day, remember? Yes, and your wife Marilyn was there too. ...Yes, Ernie, its a forgery. I think Greg tried to kill me sometime between Saturday night and Monday night. He dumped me over a cliff. I think he drugged me at the party." Jan listened for a moment or two and then concluded "Ernie, I'm safe. Let the police know that I'm OK. ...No, don't tell them about what I think Greg did. We can handle him in our own good time. ...Ian, what's your phone number here?"

"Its area code (759) 555-1567."

"Ernie, I can be reached at this number. Are you ready? OK. It's 759-555-1567. No, do NOT tell Greg where I am. If he asks, you just tell him that I called and that I am well, do you understand? He'll know where to start looking for me, I'm sure. Let's see what that bad boy will do when he finds out that I'm alive and well. See you later, Ernie. Give my best to Marilyn and the kids, OK? Bye, now."

As she turned around and faced Ian, she asked "Do you have a rifle or something here?"

"Yes. I've got several rifles and a couple of pistols. Why?"

"I think we're going to need them. I think you're going to get to meet my ex-boyfriend. I don't think it will be a pleasant meeting. I can't believe that Greg would do something like this to get hold of my money. All he had to do was wait me out until I was ready to get married and he could have easily had half of it without any trouble at all."

"Some people are just plain greedy."

The Old Man of the Mountain and his house guest settled down next to each other on the sofa. Both thought they had the perfect way to pass a day waiting for trouble to arrive. Both of them were right and they ended up taking an afternoon siesta after fucking each other to several orgasms each. Just what would the next day bring?

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