Miko's Mountain

My cock stirred, and I laughed. Plenty of time for a second round once we hiked up to our special place on the mountain.

"I guess I'll carry it. You got it last time. At least we won't need the tent. Too cold to camp right now."

I turned and circled her shoulders with my long ape arms. "We could just do it standing up, remember? No need for a blanket at all, that way."

Her eyes gleamed. "You know me. I like to have options. Who knows where the mood will take us? Besides, it's cold out."

I hugged her. "That's my girl! Now, time's a-wasting. Let's get going. That mountain's not going to climb itself."

**

Now, and then

After our encounter with the father-daughter duo, our mood got a little manic. She'd stop suddenly so I'd run into her, then grind her butt against my groin. Once, I claimed her backpack straps needed adjusting, and spent a good 10 minutes massaging and playing with her breasts. You know, the stuff that helps a couple bond, but sounds kind of silly when you try to explain it to someone else. The crisp air added to our high spirits, and the anticipation of outdoor sex, always a favorite, took us even higher.

I had first brought her here a couple of months after my release from the hospital, wanting to show her the beautiful spot where I had planned to die. The blistering heat had given way to fall, and the golds and oranges of a Pennsylvania autumn gilded the hillsides.

We had chatted of this and that, carefully avoiding anything of consequence as I led her up, and up, to my favorite spot. A narrow trace snaked off the main path, hugging a rockface, and as we headed through the trees and brush, I made sure no branches snapped back at my girl. The trace made a sharp left and we emerged onto a ledge in front of a hollow not quite deep enough to qualify as a cave. The overhang would keep the rain off you, and several people could stand on the ledge without crowding one another, but you wouldn't want to have a dance party there. No cell phone coverage, for one thing.

Her face lit up as she took in the view.

"Gorgeous! Look at the hills! And that sky!"

One thing I had already learned about Verity -- when she loved something, she really loved it and I was going to hear all about it. Ditto if she hated something. After my ex-wife's moody silences, guessing games and passive-aggressive snark, I found Verity's emotional honesty refreshing -- even when she was angry at me. (I'm a pretty simple guy, and I like to know exactly where I stand so I can fix whatever I did wrong.)

I smiled, watching her look out and up at one of the best views in the state. She stepped forward, close to the small rocks I had lined up beside the cliff's edge, and one of my long arms shot out to grab her before I could even think. She took a long look down at the dark rocks below, then back at me, all joy gone from her face.

"You were serious. You didn't want anyone to find you and bring you back, did you?"

I shook my head. "No."

She surveyed the view again, this time assessing this spot's remoteness. No handrails up here: if you fell over the ledge, you were on your own -- assuming you survived the impact.

"How many people even know about this place?" she asked.

"Enough to have made the little path." She snorted, clearly thinking "path" too generous a description. "Probably just a few dozen. I've never run into anyone up here, though. It's too far up for most hikers and this is not a great camping site -- too small and too easy to fall off the ledge at night."

"And you know this how?"

I grinned. "Brought a sleeping bag up here on a few clear summer nights. The stars are brilliant! But one night, I brought up a bottle of JD and drank too much, and then I nearly killed myself when I got up to pee." I shivered. "Scared me silly."

"But not enough to stop drinking." She made a it a statement, not a question.

"Enough to stop drinking up here. But no, not enough to stop drinking."

She raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the distinction.

"Was that night what put the idea in your head -- that this would be the right place to die?"

I considered it. "I guess so. I've always thought I wanted my last moments on earth to be in a beautiful place, and as you can see, this place is beautiful. And the ledge would make it ... easy. No muss, no fuss. Just a step into the darkness and then -- nothing."

She backed up so that we were touching and I tentatively wrapped my arms around her shoulders and collarbone. Our relationship was still so new -- she had refused to go out with me until a month after my release from her care -- and I didn't want to ruin it. I felt like I do when someone else's dog or cat curls up on my lap for a nap: delighted to be its chosen human, and mindful of keeping it happy and safe.

"Do you feel like that now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this still a place for death?"

I inhaled, and instinct answered for me.

"Not anymore. You've been here with me, and ... I couldn't now. It would feel," I paused, searching for the right word, "sacrilegious."

She turned in my arms to face me and smiled up at me. "No one has ever said anything like that to me before." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my willing mouth, tasting of apples and cinnamon from the pie we'd shared earlier. Her body pressed against mine.

"Maybe we should make love here -- cleanse the place of your dark impulses."

Pleasantly shocked, I pressed back, my cock hardening instantly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't change her mind. "I mean, we've never done it -- are you sure you want our first time to be here?"

"I've never been surer of anything," and her serene smile made my heart jump. "This would be a beautiful place to die -- but it's a better place to live. And love."

I fumbled with her buttons, clumsy with eagerness to open this gift. "I don't have a condom."

She unzipped my pants and pushed them down. I gasped at the rush of cool air on my privates. "I'm a nurse, silly. Birth control is not an issue. I'm safe."

"You planned this?" I stopped fumbling and placed my hands on either side of her face, gazing into those eyes. She didn't blink.

"Not exactly. I had a feeling that this place might be something special, and I was open to whatever might happen -- but I didn't plan to seduce you, no."

I kissed her carefully. "You've been seducing me since you closed those stupid blinds in my hospital room."

She snorted. "Maybe you wanted to be seduced. Maybe deep down, you didn't want to die, so you looked up and saw my fine ass and decided that was a good enough reason to keep living."

Grasping the ass in question, I kneaded the soft-firm flesh there and enjoyed her little gasp of pleasure.

"You have an exceptional ass, and yes, it's a good reason to live. But it's not everything."

"That's not what your hands are telling me."

I gave her an extra squeeze and cupped my hands under each cheek to raise her up. With a surprised look, she leaned into me, her full breasts pressing into my chest. I let go of her ass and helped her out of her shirt, then unhooked her bra while I was at it and tossed it to the growing pile of our clothes. Feeling her tense up, I slowed way down, covering her face with gentle kisses and wrapping my arms around her back so she would feel safe. After a time, a soft moan rewarded me, and I could feel her nipples harden against my skin even as her muscles relaxed.

"That feels exquisite," she murmured. "More, please."

My hands dropped to her panties. Light caresses inspired more moans, and the thin fabric felt hot and damp under my fingers.

"Shall I take these off you?" I whispered. She nodded, her eyes closed, her expression dreamy. I hooked my thumbs over the fabric and eased them down, making sure to barely brush her skin with my nails. I could feel her shudder in response, goosebumps rising as my hands passed down her legs along with her panties.

"Miko," she breathed. "It's all so good."

"Really?"

Her eyes opened slowly, and the look in them -- of desire, of trust, of hope -- melted my soul into something entirely new.

The panties joined the rest of our clothes, as did my briefs. I rose slowly, drawing gentle curlicues all the way up her calves and inner thighs. She leaned against the rockface, parting her legs slightly, granting me access to her treasure. I drew her to me, the tip of my cock pressing against her clit as if kissing it, and ran my hands over her full breasts, luxuriating in the softness there.

She reached down to hold me in place as I massaged her. "So good."

Miko Junior seemed to swell a little more at her praise and I gave a half-laugh. "I'm so glad you like it."

She looked at me through her eyelashes and licked her lips.

"I love it."

"What would you like me to do next?"

She paused, considering and shivering as a light breeze caressed us both. "I think, rub it against my clit and vulva so I get some friction. I bet that would feel really good."

"Like this?" I drew it back and forth, sliding it all along her slit. With each pass, it seemed to get more slippery from our combined excitement. Laughing with pleasure, she moved her hips in rhythm with mine as we made our unique harmony together. I wanted to slide deep into her, but she was having so much fun using my cock this way, I decided to hold off until she asked for more.

Her squeals of glee joined the cries of the birds and late-season insects soaking up the autumn sunshine. Our ledge smelled of warm rock, pine trees and, increasingly, of sex. As the sun warmed my back, I felt so primitive, so male, so alive.

"I want you inside me."

"As you wish, my lady." I flexed my knees slightly and angled my tip up. Looking into her eyes, I slid slowly into home, then kissed her shining face as we established a new tempo.

"I've never tried it like this," she confessed after a couple of minutes.

"Standing up face to face, or on a rocky ledge over an abyss?"

She laughed. "Both." She shifted her stance a little and I could feel a new pressure on my shaft. Her arms held me tightly as she moved on me and with me. "Just like that, baby. Just like that."

As we rocked together, her eyes closed again as her focus moved inward, to her tightening pussy. Her walls fluttered against me and I held her more firmly as I felt her entire body tense. She shook, then went rigid.

"Come for me, baby," I whispered, and she gasped. "Please come, all over my cock."

Another moment of stillness, then she came, her cries of pleasure startling a few birds out of their roosts. She twisted and writhed as her deep muscles clenched and released in the most incredible way, but I held her hard against me until I felt the spasms begin to ease. My balls tightened suddenly.

"Can I come too?" I asked, hoping I could hold off for just a few more seconds.

"God yes!"

I relaxed and then thrust hard, flowing into her, each spurt more pleasurable than the last.

"Oh, Miko," she said quietly, holding me as I shook and groaned in my turn. "Oh, my love."

I wanted nothing more than to stay inside her forever. We couldn't, of course, and when I finally slipped out of her, a white trickle followed.

"I have some tissues in my pack..." I began.

"Lick me clean."

"What? I, uh, I've never," I stuttered. "Isn't that kind of weird, licking up my own semen?"

She looked at me and shook her head. "It's not weird. It's hot. In fact, it's so hot it'll probably get me off again. Try it."

I sank to my knees and winced. "Can I get my jeans to kneel on?"

She laughed. "Sure. In fact, you can just kneel on the pile of clothes." She bent over and obligingly mounded them up for me, then stood over them. "There you go. Nice and soft. Now get to work."

Her movements had smeared the trickle onto both thighs, and I sighed as I leaned in. I really didn't want to do this, but I also really wanted to please Verity. I eased her thighs a little further apart and took my first lick. She made a happy little squeak and shifted her weight.

"Yes!"

Encouraged, I forged ahead. Verity tasted and smelled of sex, and after a few more swipes with my tongue, I found myself getting into it, especially when she started grinding against my face and moaning.

Pulling my head back, I looked up at her. "You were right -- this is hot!"

She pushed my head back to her mound. "Told ya! Now please stop talking. I want another orgasm, and I can feel one coming. So to speak."

I obeyed, licking her thighs and tonguing and sucking her succulent pussy. Remembering an old standup comedy routine, I started licking the alphabet on her clit -- and sure enough, she not only loved it, she climaxed when I got to the capital T. I grabbed her ass and held her though the spasms and shouts of joy, wondering if I could ever tire of this.

Around us, the perfect fall day shone, reflecting our own joy in each other. She gave me a deep kiss after I stood, and we stood in that embrace for a long while, each lost in the other.

"I think," I told her, kissing her forehead, "that we will need to come back here."

"Every year," she replied, reaching down for her clothes as I stared at her. She looked up at me and smiled. "You don't agree?"

"I absolutely agree. I just didn't expect you to say something like that so soon."

She stood on her tiptoes and nuzzled me, then kissed my cheek. "You're my man. I'm your woman. And that's how it's going to be."

As usual, she was right.

**

Now

"You know," I said, panting a little with the effort of climbing, "I'm starting to think I should maybe go to the gym once in a while."

Verity snorted. "Yes, let's sell all those weights you love more than me and put a couple of recliners and a giant TV and a mini-fridge in the basement instead."

"I don't love anything more than you! Besides, it's your own fault."

She stopped short, and I cannoned into her, instinctively enfolding her in my arms so she wouldn't fall.

"What do you mean, it's my fault?" she demanded.

"You're the one who told me back in the hospital that my health wouldn't last very long if I didn't start taking care of it."

"How was I supposed to know you were actually listening to me? You hated me back then!"

I kissed her ear, then nibbled its lobe. "I never hated you. I hated myself. You were my bossy nurse, so you were a convenient target."

She chuckled. "Somebody was paying attention during my master's degree."

"I did edit your thesis," I pointed out, grabbing her hand and resuming our hike. "A comparison of stress behaviors in law enforcement officers, if I remember correctly."

"That sounds familiar," she admitted. "I seem to recall that a bunch of officers helped me. But you're changing the subject, Mr. Interrogation Man."

"What was the subject? I forget."

"How you love your weights more than you love me."

"Oh, that nonsense. I lift weights because I want to stay fit for you. Also, until very recently, it came in handy to be able to lift a man off the ground while he was trying to hit me."

I felt, rather than heard, her reaction. "I love that video. That little punk was sure pissed at you."

"His own fault. You shouldn't steal stuff in front of a cop. We take it personally." I paused, then resumed our previous topic. "May I also point out that you use the weights too?"

"No, you may not."

She threw me a look and we both laughed. A lifelong dancer, Verity had joined me in our little weight room about five years ago. Now she was more disciplined about it than I was.

The concrete path gave way to a dirt trail as we soldiered on. Here and there, snow lay on the path, with two sets of footprints: a man's hiking boots and a woman's smooth-soled shoes. For the thousandth time, I wondered why so many women don't wear boots when they hike. Why risk a twisted ankle for the sake of looking cute? I shook my head and cast a downward glance at Verity's feet, sensibly encased in stout Timberlands. It would take more than a pair of clunky boots for her to look frumpy.

My gaze moved up, taking in her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. Even after our romp this morning, I craved her. I honored her commitment to caring for her sister after a knee replacement, but my God! I felt happy and settled with her at home once more.

We continued plodding up the path, talking less as we neared our turn. Ever since that first time on our ledge, we had made a point to return there every year on or around the same date. Verity's month away had delayed us, and the cold snap and early snow meant we'd probably just have a quickie, then go home for a more leisurely session in front of the fireplace. I shrugged, philosophical. Any encounter with Verity was to be savored.

Both of us were panting by the time we reached the trace to go to our ledge. I frowned as I saw the footprints there. The man and the woman again. How did she expect her to keep her footing in the snow? And more to the point, were we going to have to wait until they left before we got our crack at the ledge?

"Those prints are going in, but I don't see any coming out," Verity said quietly. "Should we even go in?"

"We're here, so might as well. I'm sure as hell not going back down and waiting for them to finish. If we catch them at anything, we'll just turn around and come back here."

Still, we both hesitated. In 19 years of visiting the ledge, we had never encountered another soul, and it seemed odd to think about doing it now. We looked at each other, uncertain. She finally lifted an eyebrow and started ahead of me.

Normally, all kinds of sounds greeted us on the short trace to the ledge, but the snow muffled nearly everything except the crunch of our boots on the icy ground. In a way, it seemed like time itself had stopped as we made our way there. I passed her so I could keep the branches from hitting her in the face -- she had carried the sleeping bag, so it was the least I could do -- so I rounded the corner to the ledge first, taking a second to enjoy the mountain view.

A whoosh of air by my face and a dark blur in my peripheral vision warned me, but not soon enough to dodge the bullshitter from the lookout. I did manage to shift direction fast enough that the blow connected with my shoulder instead of my head -- but the wallop sent ripples of pain through my left arm before an alarming numbness set in.

"Son of a bitch!" I bellowed, hoping Verity would take the hint and stop.

Holding the stick like a spear, he crouched before me, the girl unconscious on the ground in front of him. The man growled, lifted his blood-smeared walking stick and feinted an attack at me.

Blood roared in my ears as I tensed, waiting for him and praying my wife would keep back. A lunatic with a club who had possibly just murdered a little girl was about all I could handle at that moment; I didn't need to worry about Verity too.

"Get back!" I shouted at Verity, but the man seemed to think I meant him.

"Get outta here!" he shouted, charging me. "Go!"

He was not tall or particularly fit, but he had worked himself into a murderous frenzy and I was unarmed and injured. This needed to end quickly. He aimed for the center of my chest and I twisted and leaned back, getting only a glancing blow from the stick this time. He came close enough for me to grab him by the neck with my good arm.

I didn't count on the walking stick slamming into the rockface. The shock made him trip and we both went down -- me on my left arm, of course. I saw stars and tasted blood, but lacked time to let either register.

He scrambled to get on top of me, grabbing at my hair to smash my head against the stony ground. Heart racing as adrenaline coursed through my system, I pistoned one knee into his crotch, then slammed my steel-shanked boot down onto his leg. He howled and tried to roll away.