A Stroll in the Woods

My parents had a two week lease on a house back in the mountains and were intending to stay there for their summer vacation. For once I was given the option of coming along or staying home.

"You're eighteen now, Denise," my father said. "I see no reason why you shouldn't stay home if you really want to."

"I'll think it over and let you know," I said, not sure which way to jump. I knew that my mother would prefer I went with them but my father wouldn't mind either way. The trouble was that I didn't know whether I should go or stay.

My mind was made up for me by my boyfriend, Michael. I'd casually mentioned that my parents were heading up into the mountains for their vacation and he was promptly all over it.

"Oh, please tell me that you're not going," he pleaded with an unseemly degree of haste. "With them out of the way I can just move in with you for a couple of weeks and we can have a wow of a time. I've been wanting some serious alone time with you and this would be perfect. You can forget about your silly scruples and I can teach you all sorts of bed sports."

Talk about taking something for granted. I'd been fighting off his more serious attempts for the past month or so and now he was assuming that with my parents away I'd jump straight into bed with him? If I'd been ready for that sort of thing I wouldn't have been fighting him off, now would I?

"I'm sorry, Michael, but my Mother absolutely insists that I go with them and you know my Father. Whatever Mother wants he'll go along with."

There was a bit of back and forth after that and I swore that I'd try to change my Mother's mind but, I pointed out, she'd seemed pretty determined.

As soon as I got home I spoke to my Mother.

"Tell me that I have to go on holiday with you," I told her.

"You have to come on holiday with us," she parroted.

"Now tell me that your mind is made up and you're not going to change it."

She gave me an amused look and did so.

"Right," I said. "If Michael calls tell him the same things," I said firmly and she laughed outright.

"Bringing pressure to bear was he?" she asked and I nodded.

"He was of the assumption that as soon as you drove off he'd be moving into my bedroom for the fortnight. As if."

"Ah. A little presumptuous I take it."

"A whole lot presumptuous," I grumbled. "Anyway, a nature break will do me good."

We left immediately after work on the Friday evening, getting an early start, reaching the rented cabin not all that long after dark. We spent Saturday just organising things to Mother's taste and familiarising ourselves with the immediate surrounds. A nice peaceful day.

Sunday we went for a hike deeper into the mountain. We had a map of the trails and just went for what was, in effect, a long leisurely stroll. We did some bird watching along the way and took a few photos of some scenic views. We had returned to the cabin and that's when I had my accident. I slipped going up the steps to the cabin (all two of them) and fell back down them. No worries apart from a twisted ankle. Rather a painful twist, but just a twist.

"Mum, it's just a minor twist," I explained to my Mother the next day when she told me that I'd be staying behind resting it while she and my Father went on another hike.

"Yes, I know," she agreed, "and it will stay just a minor twist if you relax for the day and don't stress it. Just potter around the immediate area and rest whenever your ankle tells you to. If you go on a full hike it's likely to give way at an inopportune time and you'll wind up with a nasty sprain. It's only one day."

Reluctantly I waved them off. As soon as they reached the trail I turned and dived for my bed. I had no objection to catching another hour or so of sleep.

After a couple of hours bladder pressure and hunger forced me out of bed. After attending to these problems I looked out to the developing day. It was fine and sunny, already warm and likely to get quite a bit warmer. I dressed in a minimum of clothes, panties and sundress, and then ventured out to, as my Mother had suggested, potter around the area.

I remembered that when we'd been looking around on Saturday we'd seen a small creek at the back of the property. I headed towards it and when I reached it I looked up and down the stream. It seemed to me that heading upstream would be a lot easier than going downstream, so I turned and ambled along in that direction. I figured that as long as I stayed next to the stream there was no way I'd get lost. All I had to do to get back to the cabin was follow the stream downhill again, with the cabin actually being in sight from the stream.

Heading on up the stream I found several small pools, surprised to spot some small fish in some of them. I'd have thought the stream was too small, but apparently not. After about half an hour I came to a much larger pool. Something had left quite a deep hole in the ground at that point and the stream had captured it for itself. Deep is, of course, relative. Three feet at the deepest, was my guess, but a rock bottom which helped contain the water quite nicely.

The warming that I'd expected had continued and the day was now hottish. I was sweating from the climbing I'd been doing following the stream and my ankle was warning me that I was over doing it just a little bit. This seemed to be the perfect place to sit and rest for a while. I took off my sandals and sat on a rock next to the pool, dangling my feet in the water.

The water was nice and cool. Not cold, just cool. Stood to reason, I guess, as it was in bright sunshine. My ankle as feeling better and the water looked inviting and I was hot. Normally I'd never go skinny-dipping but in this instance, what the hell. I was all alone and off the beaten track. For that matter I was off any track, as I'd just followed the stream and that wasn't exactly a path. I slipped off my dress and panties, putting them on a rock nearby, and then waded into the pool.

I just relaxed and floated. Not enough water to really swim, but floating was fine. Rolling face down and looking into the pool I could see that this pool also had fish, a couple of them a respectable size. I was idly wondering how they got enough to eat when one of the larger fish came up behind one of the smaller fish and there was one fish less in the pool.

I splashed about in the pool for a while. Finally deciding it was time to get out and head homewards I waded towards the edge, wondering whether to get dressed immediately or whether to sun-dry first. It wouldn't take long for the sun to dry me off so that was the option I decided to go with.

I sat on that rock next to the pool for a short while, the sun hard at work drying me off. Satisfied I was dry enough I reached for my clothes and they weren't there.

Not there. Gone. Vanished. I couldn't believe it. That was the way I'd come up to the pool. This was the rock I'd sat on to cool my feet. Right there was the spot where I'd put my dress, panties, and sandals. Right there was also the spot where my sandals still were, but my dress and panties were sadly missing. No way that could happen. There'd been no breeze, so what the hell?

I hastily put my sandals on. I could get home safely enough without clothes even it would be embarrassing, but it wasn't as though there'd be a plethora of passers-by to see me, and the birds couldn't care less.

That was the point when someone cleared their throat with a loud "A-hem."

My horrified eyes swivelled towards the sound and I spotted movement next to a tree. With that much of a clue I found I could see a man sitting next to the tree, his clothes similar in colour to the tree trunk. How the hell I'd missed seeing him before was beyond me. The movement? That was my panties, dangling from his finger and swaying back and forth. Looking harder it registered that part of the greenery next to him wasn't vegetation but my dress.

Now that I had finally noticed him I couldn't understand how I'd missed seeing him in the first place - probably because he'd been sitting still and I hadn't expected anyone to be there. From what I could see he was an average sort of man. Not excessively handsome or ugly. He didn't look to be over large or on the small side. His hair was a nondescript mousy colour. Altogether a totally forgettable sort of person. Except for his muscles. He was wearing a short sleeved top and he looked totally muscular.

"What are you doing with my clothes, you pervert?" I snarled, both incensed and embarrassed.

"Just looking after them for you," he said easily, his voice proving to be quite a pleasant baritone. "The way you left them any stray animal may have made off with them and then where would you be?"

"In the same situation I am now," I pointed out. "Give them to me, please."

(Note the please? I was willing to wait until I was dressed before becoming excessively rude to him.)

He jiggled my panties in a come and get them gesture and I didn't see that I really had much option. I edged closer until I thought they were within reach and them made a lightning grab for them. Even as I was grabbing he was releasing them and doing some grabbing of his own. He caught my wrist with no problem, his hand wrapping around it and tugging, resulting in me lurching forward, finishing up lying face down across his lap.

"What the hell?" I screamed and he laughed.

One of his hands pressed firmly against my back holding me pinned down while the other was wandering over my bottom, stroking me.

"Just relax," he told me. "This won't hurt a bit."

I started struggling and the hand that was stoking my bottom promptly smacked it.

"Of course, if you wriggle around too much you may find it will hurt," he warned. "Like I said, relax and let it happen. I just feel like petting you for a while."

"I don't want to be petted," I hissed at him.

"Really? Um, may I point out that I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter? Anyway, a little petting never hurt anyone so you might as well get used to it. Oh, wait. Would you like me to spank you first so that you know you have no choice?"

Put like that I just went still. "Thought not," he murmured and resumed his stroking of my bottom.

After a while his hand stilled, resting on my bottom, but still holding me down. Now his other hand went to work, sliding under me and stroking my breasts. He massaged and rubbed, rubbed and massaged, filling in his spare moments by twiddling with my nipples.

That seemed to go on for ages with me able to do nothing but move a little restlessly under his touch. Finally that hand shifted to my back again and the other hand resumed its' explorations. Unfortunately he was no longer content to just fondle my bottom. His hand tried to probe between my legs, foiled to a certain extent by my determination to keep my legs together.

"I thought we'd already discussed you providing a certain amount of cooperation," he said, giving my bottom a light spank in warning.

I gave a silent groan and when his hand next slipped between my legs they parted, letting him have room to play. And that's what he proceeded to do, giving me a thorough pussy massage. He didn't just stop at rubbing my vulva, either. After a while he eased my lips apart and a couple of fingers slipped between them, letting him carry on his massage internally.

I was moving restlessly under his touch once again. Who wouldn't when a man was doing that sort of thing to you? One thing I was acutely aware of was that his touching and fondling was moving closer and closer to my clitoris, making me ever more aware of what he was doing.

At some stage the hand on my back moved around to close over a breast and then he was massaging them again as well as teasing me down below. That was probably the only chance I had to make a sudden break for it but I was so distracted by those fingers moving about so close to my clitoris that I didn't even notice.

Then he was altogether too close to my clitoris, my body reacting dangerously to his touch.

"Enough," I wailed. "Stop it. Please."

"What, stop this?" he asked, and he stroked me again, doing his best to drive me insane.

"Yes, stop doing that," I cried and he laughed again. He was finding the whole thing so funny, the swine.

"Okay, as a favour to you I'll stop this in a moment," he agreed, much to my relief.

Virginal, naïve, and an idiot. That was me. It turned out that a moment can be an eternity when a man is rubbing the area around your clitoris and also stimulating your breasts at the same time. I just knew that I was feeling extremely tense. He apparently knew that I was about to climax. One touch too many and I cut loose with a spasm and a cry as I climaxed.

That rotten, rotten, man took full advantage of me climaxing. He moved me off his lap and onto the ground, face down, bum up. He also moved himself behind me and the first I caught on to the implications of the new arrangement was when I felt him parting my lips and something that was certainly not his finger pushing past them.

I gave a yelp and a frantic squeal of, "No," but it was way too late. The yelp signalled the end of my virginity, the pain obscured by the climax taking place, and the no was totally ignored as his cock slid smoothly into me, just naturally making itself at home in my passage. Oh, yeah. His arms also went around me so that his hands could latch onto my breasts.

"You said you were just going to do some petting," I accused him.

"And you believed me?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

How did I answer that without sounding like a total idiot? It turned out that I didn't have to.

"Yes, you probably did. Silly of you wasn't it. Um, seeing you WERE a virgin you may not know what to do going forward. It's simple really. Just move with me. We'll start of nice and easy and you'll find it just comes naturally."

Now he was being insulting, especially with that emphasis on 'were', letting me know I no longer was a virgin. I was just naturally going to have to kill him.

I had just decided that when he pulled back and thrust firmly back into me and then I didn't know what I wanted. He'd already stirred me up with all his touching and that feeling of his cock surging into me re-awoke all that arousal that had started to die down, and re-awoke it with a vengeance. I gave a startled squeal, followed by another one as he thrust into me again.

By the time his third stroke was on its way I was pushing back to meet it, giving a soft wailing 'ah' sound as I did so. That's how it went for a while - he'd thrust in and I'd push back, making that funny sound and feeling most peculiar as his cock slid along my passage, invariably finishing with a slapping sound as his groin smacked against me.

I had no idea of what he meant by saying we'd take it nice and easy to start with because what he was doing certainly felt hot and heavy to me.

After a few minutes I found out, didn't I? Without a word of warning he picked up the pace, his thrusting now hitting hard, jolting my whole body when he slapped home. All those funny feelings that were being generated deep within me apparently approved as they were now screaming, yes, yes, yes, to me, demanding even more.

Quite frankly I'd never felt more helpless in all my life, a veritable toy for him to play with. What was worse I couldn't even think of resisting, just doing what he wanted and praying that he wouldn't stop. They say men lose the ability to think once their cocks get hard and it seems that it's a communicable disease, with me losing the ability to think once that hard cock was inside me the way it was.

He seemed to pick up the pace even more and my little gasping sounds were becoming louder and more urgent. Then my climax came sweeping through me and this time I quite literally screamed as it happened, stunned at the feelings raging through me. I was vaguely aware that he was also climaxing, quite liberally spraying deep inside me.

I cleaned up in the pool and got dressed, watching him with dagger-eyes the entire time. He was relaxed and amused.

"Do you know your way home?" he asked when I was about to leave.

"Yes," I scoffed at him. Did he think I was an idiot? (Probably, so we won't go there.) "I just follow the stream. It runs right by the place we're renting."

"Yeah? That would be the Anderson place, in that case. Okay, so I know where you live. I guess I'll see you around."

"Not if I see you first," was my snide remark, and he laughed.

"Don't worry. You won't. It'll be fun surprising you."

And just what did he mean by that I wondered as I wended my way home. Did he mean to sneak up on me and take advantage of me again? He knew where I was staying. Would he try to sneak inside some night? What would I do if I woke up in the middle of the night and found him in my bed? No, he wouldn't dare. I was sure of it.