Like a previous story, this erotic encounter took place in the Scottish Highlands. This time I was on my own, on a four-day trek north of Kintail. I reached the bothy about 4 pm after a ten-mile hike across pathless moorland, and was pleased to find no-one else in residence. Not that I'm antisocial, but there's something special about spending the night in the middle of nowhere miles from the nearest person. That wasn't to say that no-one would turn up later, but contrary to popular myth the hills are not stuffed with Swedish girls – it would more likely be a couple of Glaswegian lads stuffed with Tennants lager.
[For those unenlightened, a bothy is an unlocked, un-wardened shelter in the hills, providing a dry and midge-free place to sleep, but usually little else.]
The day was hot and sunny and I was sweaty and tired. I made a mug of tea and sat outside listening to the silence. There was just enough of a breeze to keep the midges away. After a while I spied a figure in the distance, making its way slowly up the glen towards me. Oh well, at least it was just one person. We could sit and chat and discuss walks we had done and hills we had climbed. As the figure got nearer I saw that it was female, a small female carrying a large rucksack. Even better – I like women, on the whole.
She came up to the bothy and swung her sack off her shoulders with a grin. 'Hi, what a beautiful day!'
The woman was petite – barely five foot, I reckoned – but fit and wiry. Her face and bare arms and legs were tanned, her short spiky hair sunbleached. I guessed from the lines in her face that she was at least twice as old as me – I'm 23 – it's hard to tell with these outdoor types. But her smile was infectious and her blue eyes very attractive. She wore zipped-off shorts and a base-layer top. I detected the outline of a sports bra, although her bust was pretty small. Not bad, I thought, if you go for the older woman.
'Want a cup of tea?' I said. 'The water's still hot.'
'I could murder a cup.' She held out a small hand, rather self-consciously. 'I'm Sara.'
I introduced myself, and, formalities out of the way, we fell to chatting about routes, views, weather - the usual walkers' topics. She got another chair from inside and we sat drinking tea companionably in the sunshine. (Contrary to popular myth again, it is sometimes hot and sunny in Scotland.) She was an experienced walker and climber and had explored the majority of the British Isles and done quite a bit in Europe too. She mentioned a first Alpine trip in the sixties and I increased my estimate of her age. She also told me a little about her kids – four boys, the oldest well past university. I discovered that she lived with her husband about 30 miles from me.
'Phew, I'm sweaty,' she said. 'Time for a bath.'
'What? Is there a bath here?'
Sara laughed. 'About half a mile thataway – there's a pool with a waterfall – it's perfect. Be cold, though.' She picked up her rucksack. 'I'll spread my bag out and sort out some clean clothes. What about you?'
'Um, yes, I'm up for a wash. Lead me to it.'
There's nothing quite like bathing in a mountain stream, cold or not, as long as you can dry off afterwards. And doing it in the company of a female is even better. I wondered if she would keep her undies on. We spread our thermarests and sleeping bags in the loft – on opposite sides, to be polite – and unpacked spare clothing. I hadn't brought a towel, to keep weight down, and trusted on using my T-shirt to dry myself. I did, however, have a sliver of soap.
Sara led the way up a side valley to a little canyon where the stream cascaded into a clear pool about ten metres across. There was a patch of short grass next to the water. It was a magical place, which you wouldn't know about from a distance. I couldn't help exclaiming with delight.
The woman began to strip off her clothes without hesitation. Politely I avoided looking at her (yeah, if you believe that you'll believe anything), and started to undress myself. I turned round to catch a flash of naked buttocks as she dived into the water – small and firm, they were. Sara surfaced with a yelp and began to splash around.
'Is it cold?' I was down to my pants now and she was looking at me challengingly.
'You bet! But it's great. Come on in!'
I bared myself and dived in. Fucking hell, it was cold, and I couldn't help shouting as she had done when I came up. But once you got used it the water was exhilarating. After a splash around we sat on rocks near the edge, with a decent separation between us, and soaped ourselves down. I cast surreptitious glances. Sara's body was wiry and muscular without a trace of fat. Four children didn't seem to have taken its toll on her figure. Her breasts were small and conical, and her nipples big, dark and hard – probably from the cold. Is it just that nipples always look bigger on small breasts?
We went back in and washed off the soap, splashed around a bit more, but the water temperature was having its effect and by mutual consent we got out and lay on the turf in the sun. My balls had retracted well indoors with the cold and my cock had shrunk to a little worm. Not an impressive sight for a woman, but Sara had her eyes shut anyway. This gave me a chance to inspect her at leisure. Her stomach was flat and her hipbones and pubic mound prominent, topped with a tuft of blonde hair. Really not a bad body for her age – for any age, in fact. I felt my cock start to swell back to normal size, and then beyond. I closed my eyes and willed it to go down, without success – in fact that only made it harden to an impressive length and girth.
I heard Sara chuckle. 'No lasting damage, I see!'
I looked at her – she was leaning on one elbow inspecting me. 'Sorry.'
'Why sorry? I'm just wondering if that's for me or if you were thinking about your girlfriend.'
'Um ... not a girlfriend.'
She crawled over to me, grinning. 'In that case, it must be for me ...'
Her small cool hand grasped my cock and it swelled even more. She swung her leg across and straddled my hips, and held my cock vertical, then pushed it between her pussy lips and sat down on me. She was tight and hot inside, in contrast with her cool skin. To my amazement she took my entire length in one stroke, until her buttocks touched my thighs. Where did she put it? She was a petite woman and I am larger than average. Then I remembered that she had had four children – there was obviously a lot of capacity there, although she had tightened up very nicely.
Sara put her hands on my chest and rode me powerfully, lifting right up until just the head of my cock was still gripped in her pussy, then plunging back down to sheath my whole column in her hotness. Her eyes flashed and her mouth opened and she grunted with excitement. I could feel her grinding her pubes against mine, stimulating her clitoris. I reached up and rubbed my palms against her hard nipples, then gripped her bony hips and helped her to slam down onto me.
She climaxed easily, and the strong contractions in her cunt triggered off my own climax, which I had been trying to delay. I blasted hot semen deep into her. We pulsed together – Sara flopped down onto my chest and we lay there laughing even as our orgasms continued to throb. I kissed the top of her head – that's how much taller I was.
I began to soften, but she whispered, 'Stay in me,' and gripped me tight with her internal muscles. I hugged her close, listening to her breathing, feeling my cock slowly recover and swell inside her body. Soon, helped by her cunt's massage, I was hard again and ready for more. I rolled her over onto her back and reared above her, and started to pump in and out. Her cunt squelched as the semen squirted out around my cock. Sara locked her ankles around my waist and closed her eyes in bliss. The fact that she was relishing my assault on her petite frame made me redouble my efforts, and I pounded into her as hard as I could, my back arched and sweat dripping from my forehead. She responded by shuddering through an orgasm.
I must have fucked her for about half an hour, through a few more climaxes, and my arms and back were beginning to ache. No matter how hard and deep I plumbed her, she just lapped it up and wanted more. Eventually I couldn't hold back and erupted another flood into her womb. She squeezed me gratefully.
When I had finished pulsing she unhooked her ankles and let her legs flop sideways. I struggled off her and looked at her pussy, now gaping darkly. Cloudy fluids trickled from it onto the grass. Sara pushed herself up on her arms and sat cross-legged, letting her cunt drain.
'Mmm, nothing like sex in the open air, is there?' she grinned.
'That was great,' I said, lost for words. 'You're a ... amazing ...'
'You're not so bad yourself.'
We grinned at each other, and let our eyes roam freely over the other's body. She didn't seem inclined to talk, nor to mind my watching closely as her cunt continued to leak its contents. I could see her examining my cock, wondering when it might be able to perform again. Not too soon, I thought – that last orgasm had been draining. As I observed her small fit frame, I wondered again how old she was. Four grown-up kids – had to be at least fifty, maybe older. Mentally I compared the size of my erection with her body – god, it must have reached up to her ribs almost. How many times had she had sex in her life? How many partners? Were some of them even bigger than I?
To my surprise I felt my cock stir into life again, then swell achingly to full rigor. To be honest I was quite proud of its powers. I sat cross-legged in front of her, sporting my renewed column, flecked with semen. Sara smiled at me and stood up and right in front of me. Her pubic hair was level with my face. Her cunt still dripped. Slowly she sank down, and I let my tongue trace a path up her stomach, between her breasts and up her chin and face. Her aim was good – I slipped between her wide-open labia and sank into her slick, hot innards again.
We hugged tightly, partly to hold ourselves upright. I could feel her nipples digging into my chest. She laid her head against my shoulder and let most of her weight be taken on her pubes where they rested in the angle of my cock. The she started to massage me again, internally. God, her muscles were strong! Decades of exercise, I guessed. It was like being masturbated by several little fists in a bath of warm honey.
I ran my hands over her skin, feeling the muscles rippling underneath. Her cunt massage continued, and after a while she whispered, 'I'm coming again,' and her body shook and trembled in my arms. My cock grew harder, almost painfully so, as she kept on squeezing and clutching it with her insides. I wanted to hump and jerk my hips but her weight prevented it. My balls ached and my cockhead felt as if it would explode. Sara must have sensed my impending climax because she whispered 'Come inside me.' With a great shout I did so, agonisingly.
'Mmm, that's it,' she murmured, continuing to milk me with her cunt, 'empty your balls inside me, give me all your spunk, every last drop, yes, yes, again, again –' as I kept on convulsing even though my balls were drained, as her cunt clutched at me mercilessly.
Finally, however, I couldn't cum any more, and she stopped. We held each other sweatily as I softened and slipped out of her. I felt her cunt disgorge a flood of warm juice over my limp cock.
'Better have another wash,' she chuckled, and got off my lap. We squatted at the edge of the pool and washed our respective sexual organs – Sara had no embarrassment as she faced me and sluiced the sperm out of her pussy, which showed no ill effects from its strenuous exercise. After we were dry I watched her dress – small black panties, no bra, T shirt and thin trousers. I don't care how old she is, I thought, she's one hell of a fuck.
I was wondering whether she would require a repeat performance later in the evening, one that I might not rise to, but to my mingled relief and regret two more hikers had arrived at the bothy by the time we returned. As there was only one sleeping area, and it was too midgy and cold to stay outside as dusk approached, we spent the evening sipping whisky in companionable chat.
What with the long hike, the strenuous sex and the whisky, I was ready for bed by ten o'clock, and turned in. I was asleep almost instantly. I had been looking forward to enjoying Sara's body again in the morning, once the other two had set off, but to my disappointment, by the time I awoke, she had packed up and gone. Next to my head, however, was a scrap of paper with a phone number ...
Later that year:
I open the back door of the little house – it's unlocked – and go into the kitchen. Sara appears, her hair damp, a white towel around her bust, as if to prove that she's thoroughly clean after whatever she might have been doing in the night. She leans back against the counter with a smile, and watches silently as I strip off, unhurriedly and casually. My cock is already hard in anticipation, and springs out as I drop my pants. Her smile widens. I pull the towel off her naked body, slim and wiry as ever. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist and my cock automatically finds her already-open pussy. I push her against a cupboard and begin to fuck her.
We've been doing this once a week for a while now. Sara works part-time so I can visit her on a weekday when her husband isn't around. She's not interested in getting romantic, all she wants is what she calls a 'PPR', a 'purely physical relationship'. She doesn't care much for oral sex, even, nor anything more unusual. All Sara wants is to be fucked, hard and long. She likes me for my big cock and my youthful stamina. We don't talk much, she doesn't complain about her husband or tell me about any other partners she might have. I fuck her five or six times during the day, and she responds with several orgasms. She's always tight and always ready. I still haven't bothered to find out exactly how old she is.