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Thank you isseii for allowing me to write this little fantasy for you. Isseii made application on my thread to be my photographer in the faux job offer. Quite a few women did. I was very pleased with the response to my little contest.
I couldn’t pass it up. Three thousand dollars for three days work staking a mineral claim and a quarrying claim for a mining company. Rumour had it opal had been found in the area. I packed up my kit including my sleeping bag, food, and a few personal items. I checked the fluid levels in my pickup and climbed in. The defender shotgun’s just a precaution. It can be used to signal for help or protect you from an aggressive predator. I’d loaded it with alternate rounds of triple-ought buckshot and slugs.
I drove four hours before I arrived at the ferry landing and crossed. I marked the location of the truck with the GPS and struck out west along the river toward Grizzly Mountain. The breeze whispered through the canopy above my head and the birds sang their atonal songs as I walked by. Occasionally a squirrel would berate me for invading what it felt was its territory, not seeming to care if I out weighed him by a thousand times or not. He’d have responded to a bear in the same way.
The breeze was light, but was rising in intensity. I hate when that happens. In this country, you know you’re not at the top of the food chain. I always get agitated when it happens. A hard wind means you don’t hear the rustling of an approaching predator. Bears and cougars are always an issue here. The storm was coming quickly.
I was almost to the coordinate where I’d turn east to the prospector’s cabin that I’d been told about when I saw her. She was standing in the river with her shirt off washing herself. I chuckled softly. This was not what you expect to see deep in the bush. I wondered if I should quietly move around her so I didn’t embarrass her, but her body was amazing. I hesitated. Sue me. I’m a guy. She was a beautiful voluptuous girl with long auburn hair. She turned suddenly and saw me. Her eyes were filled with fear.
“Help me. Please, help me!”
That’s when I saw her shirt on the bank of the river. It was covered in blood and torn. It was easy to see how she’d gotten hurt. One slip in these rocks and you were almost guaranteed a sharp rock would tear you up. I surveyed the terrain, picked my path, and put on my leather jacket in case I fell. Better the jacket than me.
When I got to her she was trembling. I’m not sure if she’d thought about how cold the water was. I pulled a clean shirt out of my pack and wrapped it around the arm.
“Keep pressure on it.” I checked her eyes. Her pupils seemed okay. Pale green. Gorgeous.
“Shouldn’t we make a tourniquet?” she asked.
“No. Just keep pressure on it.”
I dug through my pack and found the first aid kit. “Let me see it?”
She pulled the shirt away. It was a bad gash nearly four inches long. It was deep, but it was just in flesh. I poured some Everclear from a small flask over the wound. At 190 proof it was 95% alcohol. She tensed up but withstood the sting very well. I closed the gash as best as I could with a series of small butterfly bandages. I’d do a better job later. Her nipples were hard and tight from the cold.
“I have to get to a hospital.”
I looked at the sky. It was clouding up fast. I checked the GPS. “No. We have a bad storm coming. There’s a cabin not far from here.” I hoped my information was correct and the cabin would be there.
“Well just point me in the right direction.”
I considered that. It was a five miles back to my truck, but it was rough going. “Do you have a GPS?”
“Do you know where you are?”
Her voice came back as a quiet whisper. “No.”
“You’re lost and you want me to point you in the right direction?” I tried to fight back a smirk.
She swallowed. Her breasts rose and fell from a huff of frustration. Magnificent. “Okay. The cabin then. Tomorrow you can get me out of here.”
“Do you have three thousand dollars?”
“That’s how much I lose if I take you out tomorrow. What the hell were you doing out here anyway?”
“I’m a photographer.”
“What were you taking pictures of?”
Her breasts jiggled and bounced as a giggle escaped her lips.
“Let me get another shirt for you out of your backpack.”
“I don’t have one,” she said.
“You—what? You have a backpack and a camera bag and no spare shirt.”
Her eyes fell. “No, not really.”
“Not really? What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t have a spare shirt.”
“Spare bra? Do you have a spare bra?” I hoped she could here the sarcasm.
“Those I have.”
She shook her head. What kind of woman is this I wondered? No spare shirt but a spare bra?
“Food. Did you bring food?”
She bit her lip. “No.”
I shook my head. “Get your pack. I’ll carry your camera bag.”
“Aren’t you going to offer me a shirt?”
“Sorry, Vicki. I only brought bras.” She laughed. Fuck she was cute. I tossed monsters of cock porno her a green jack shirt. “It buttons on the wrong side. Hope you can handle it.”
“Don’t be a smart ass. What’s your name?”
“Most of my friends call me Gray.” I took her good arm and helped her through the rocks. “Try to keep up. We only have about a half hour before the rain hits.”
She laughed. “You can tell? I’m Vicki.”
Shit. I didn’t need this. I had work to do, and I was suddenly saddled with this woman who had wandered off into the bush without provisions or clothing? And in spite of that feeling, my chest seemed to swell in her presence. If I wasn’t careful I’d start to have . . . feelings.
We walked a half an hour and the rain started.
“You’re kidding me,” she said softly. “What are you some kind of mountain man?”
“Are we almost there? I’m not feeling well.”
“Should be just over this rise. I’ll feed you once we’re inside.”
The cabin was set back against the south bank of a hill. North winds would pass over top of the cabin and the sun would hit it all day. It was near a small lake. The wind rustled harshly through the trees as we approached. I opened the door and stepped inside. It was clean. There was a note on the table. Take what you need. Don’t bust the place up. Do a kindness along the way for someone in appreciation. I smiled.
“There’s only one bed.”
I set my pack and the camera bag on the floor. “Looks like it. I’ve never been here before.”
“Well, where are you going to sleep?”
“On the bed. You’re the interloper.”
I turned. She was pasty looking and sweating. I touched her forehead. Her lips looked as if they’d been painted on—so full and inviting. She was hot to the touch.
“Get out of those pants. They’re wet. I’ll start a fire in the woodstove. My sleeping bag is in the bottom pouch of my pack. Get it out and get into bed. You can leave the shirt on. Socks?”
She shook her head.
“There’s a wool pair in the main pouch of my bag.”
I gathered the materials together for the fire and heard the sleeping bag slither out of the backpack. I crouched down and assembled the tinder in the stove and struck the match. The flames leapt in the tinder, and I carefully added some heavier wood. I shut the door and turned. She had her ass to me and was busy trying to get the jeans of. Her ass was as magnificent as her breasts: firm, round, and nice and wide. She was wearing a thong. I shook my head in disbelief.
“Yeah. They’re wet; I can’t get them to go down past my knees. Can you help?”
“Sure. Lie on the bed. I’ll get them.”
She lay back and lifted her legs to me. Her legs were a delight. Curvy and strong. She was truly an amazing woman. She shivered as she rolled under the sleeping bag. She fell asleep quickly without eating. I decided to leave her.
As the fire warmed the cabin, I heard a sound I didn’t want to hear. Buzzing. I looked for the source and as I got closer, a honeybee fell out of a hole in the wall. This was going to be a problem. Once it was warm enough they’d all be in the cabin. I checked Vicki and she was sound asleep. She was still really warm. I opened the woodstove and closed the damper on the stovepipe.
The cabin filled with smoke, so I opened the doors and windows to allow air through while the smoke rose into the ceiling and hung there. The wind from outside carried the low smoke away. The bees were falling from the wall in a stupor from the smoke. I swept them outside. When the buzzing stopped and the bees quit falling, I took my knife from my pack and pulled off the wall board. The hive was a decent size—the width between two studs and about twice as high. There was a square ended shovel, so I grabbed it and worked the hive away from the wall. I took it outside and placed it on a table where the cold rain washed it. I opened the damper and closed the stove door. The smoke slowly dissipated.
In the time it had taken to do this, Vicki had kicked off the sleeping bag. She was still asleep. I touched her throat. She was way too hot. I had to cool her down. I unbuttoned the shirt I’d given her and stripped it off her body. All that was left was the tiny silk thong. I was staggered at what I saw. This woman was the most amazing display of femininity I had ever seen. Swelling breasts, wide hips, and flawless skin.
Her wide brown nipples were soft and puffy, likely from the fever. I opened the door and windows to the cabin to help cool her, but it wasn’t that cold in spite of the rain. I found a bucket and got some water from the lake. I went back inside and pulled a t-shirt out of my pack and ripped it in four pieces. She rolled onto her back still unconscious. That was good. I dunked a strip of cloth into the bucket and wiped her forehead, her face, her throat. I dunked it again and placed it across her forehead. I grabbed the next cloth and wiped from her throat between her breasts and over her tummy.
She sighed. I wet the cloth naught america porno again and wiped under her breasts. My cock twitched. Here was this helpless woman and my dick wanted to makes its presence known. I was just getting myself under control when I saw her nipples stiffen into tight little buds from the cool cloth.
I marveled at the way her mound pressed against her tiny powder blue thong. Her curves were driving me slowly wild with lust. I wanted to see her sex. The space between the legs is the warmest part of the body, I rationalized. I really should wet it down as well. The thong. The thong might be damaged by moisture. I ignored the obvious. A quick tug on the ties at the hips let the thin straps fall, and I pulled the thong away. I dipped the cloth in the bucket, bunched it up in my hand, and wiped between her legs. The scent from her pussy hit my senses. I sat on my butt and shook my head at the ceiling. What the hell. How was I supposed to resist this.
My hand shook slightly as I dunked the cloth again. I carefully laid it flat over my fingers and wiped her again. I closed my eyes as my fingers slid over her pussy. I did this several times before I felt a change. I removed the cloth. Her clit was hard and was pushing through her folds of luxurious flesh. My jaw was slack and my breathing was coming fast. I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out. I couldn’t help myself. I stroked softly. A moan escaped her lips.
One taste. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? I dropped the cloth in the bucket and pressed my hand against the join of her. My middle finger searched carefully for the entrance to her sex. Her legs spread. I pushed my finger inside. Her G-spot was swollen and she was wet. No. Not wet. She was slick. Her body was responding to my touch.
I shook my head to clear it and pulled my finger out of her. My chest was rising and falling hard, almost in time with hers. Her breasts were thrust high and her back was arching. She was still unconscious. That’s when I noticed my glistening finger. I raised it to my lips and licked. Fuck! Musky and sweet. I had to get control of myself, but I was struggling. My finger seemed to move involuntarily toward her lips. I touch softly and her mouth opened. Her tongue slid out and licked. I let my finger move into her mouth, and she closed it.
“Fuck, this is crazy,” I muttered to myself as she sucked. Her tongue slid softly under the finger. I felt as if I was about to come. I pulled my finger out of her mouth and her lips pouted as a lusty, moaning laugh escaped her lips.
I steeled myself against my urges. Eventually my cock deflated. I kept wiping her body. An hour later she was still getting hotter. I removed the bandages. The wound was swollen, red, and it had separated. I knew I had to clean it again, and, this time, stitch it properly. I cleaned the wound with Everclear and a swab. The wound was long enough that the stitches could easily make the wound look jagged. I needed something to hold it shut in the middle. The first aid kit had no more butterfly bandages. I looked through my pack. Nothing.
I turned and looked at her pack. An invasion of privacy would be okay. After all, I had just washed her naked body and handled her. I sighed at the thought of my indiscretion and opened her pack.
I smacked my hand against my forehead in surprise. The pack was filled with lingerie: camisoles, panties, thongs, stockings, corsets, and bodices. It was as if my wildest fantasy had just fallen into my lap. No. It wasn’t as if. My wildest fantasies had just fallen into my lap. My eyes roamed over her body. I pulled out the garments and put them on the table, and then I found what I needed. I would have laughed if she hadn’t been so sick, but the nipple clamps would do the job.
I poured some Everclear into a cup and dropped in the clamps with the chain that connected them. Examining the wound, I could see where to apply the clamps. I washed my fingers in the Everclear and clamped her flesh together in the center. The skin pulled together nicely and I was able to stitch her with fine stitches in an attempt to keep the gorgeous flesh as unmarred as possible.
I needed something better than the Everclear. It cleaned but didn’t protect over time. That’s when I remembered. The bees. I went outside and broke off a piece of the honeycomb. I put a little in a pot, crushed the comb, and heated it slowly on the stove. I managed to coax some clean honey onto the spoon I’d scorched to be sure it was clean. Honey had been used for thousands of years in wound care. They’d discovered later that honey reacted to the PH in blood and formed hydrogen peroxide which was then held in place by the remaining sticky mass. I spread it on the wound and bound it carefully.
When I was finished, I washed her body for a half hour and sat in the chair. I was exhausted. I closed my eyes just for a moment.
I awoke to the sound of the slither of the sleeping bag. Vicki had pulled it back over herself. It was three a.m. I touched her forehead. The fever had broken. Her nubiles porn body was shivering. I built a fire again in the woodstove. It was very cold. After spending the afternoon and most of the evening cooling her down, now I had to warm her up. No telling how my body might react. Yeah, right. I stripped naked and crawled under the sleeping bag with her, put my arm over her hip, and tried to remain calm. My cock rose quickly. I pressed it softly against her back and sighed.
She rolled over and I took her into my arms. She was still asleep. Her breasts pressed against my chest. Her nipples were hard. She threw her leg over my hip. I let out a gasp as her hand reached between my legs and grasped my balls, but once there, didn’t move. The woman was wired for sex. I fell into a fitful sleep hours later.
Morning came bright and warm. As hard as it was, as hard as I was, I slipped out of bed and got dressed. I lit a small fire in the stove and put some cheese, sausage, some honeycomb, and a glass of water by the bed. She was fine. She was breathing well and was comfortably warm.
I grabbed the defender and my pack. It wouldn’t take me more than three hours to stake the claim. She’d be better the next day and we could walk out.
“Hey. Where you going?”
“I have to locate a claim. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
She rolled on her back and stretched. The sleeping bag slid away revealing her breasts.
“Oh. I’m naked.”
“You asked me to undress you.”
“Did I? I don’t remember. I’m starving.”
“There’s some food on the table beside you. You can suck the honeycomb and the wax will form a lump in your mouth you can spit out. Eat all of it and go back to sleep. I’ll be back to look after you soon.”
“Promise?” She bit her lip.
I smiled, left the cabin, and walked in the direction of the claim as I pulled the powder blue thong out of my pocket and raised it to my nose.
She was sitting outside the cabin when I returned fiddling with her camera and tripod. She didn’t look up as I approached.
“Do you know how to operate a camera?” she asked.
“Sure. Nothing quite as fancy as yours, but I can manage, and I draw so I have an eye for composition.”
“Okay. Wait here.”
She disappeared into the cabin and came out in a powder blue bodice that matched the thong in my pocket. She didn’t have anything on the bottom. Her pussy lips were magnificent, beckoning me.
“It would seem I’ve misplaced the thong I was wearing yesterday. Any idea where they may have gone?”
I could feel the heat rise in my face. I’m in my fifties and I was embarrassed by what I had done, but not so embarrassed that I couldn’t face her reaction. I pulled them out of my pocket and held the tiny dangling piece of cloth toward her.
She laughed. “Thanks.” She tossed them into the cabin on the floor.
She began wandering around in front of the cabin, strutting, posing, and making funny little faces at me. I snapped photos until I broke down laughing. This woman was so unrestrained. So fucking delicious. I wondered where this all might lead. Her curves were beyond description. Her breasts were a marvel of creation, and her hips and thighs were a beckoning playground of erotic delight.
“Okay, with the chair now. She stood and used the chair as a support as she posed and pouted for the camera. My cock was pressing hard against the material of my jeans. She sat in the chair and threw one leg over the arm. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at my crotch. She separated herself. She stuck a finger in her mouth and reached down to. The finger ran softly between her clit and her hole, sometimes dipping inside herself, sometimes rubbing softly over the ridge of her clit. She put her finger in her mouth and sucked it. Her eyes met mine.
“Okay.” Her voice was a sultry breath. “Now you.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You. It’s your turn. Give me the camera. Take your shirt off and pose for me.”
“Yes, you can. Take off the shirt. You’ve seen everything of mine.”
What the fuck was this. I was considering this? This woman wanted to take photos of me without my shirt on and I was considering doing it. What else would she ask?
“Don’t be shy, Gray. Take off the shirt.”
I took it off and tossed it inside the cabin. I stood and looked at her.
“Holy shit. Are you some kind of prude or something? Move around.”
I laughed. I suddenly felt the humour of the situation and started posing like I’d seen men do who were modeling clothes. She laughed and continued to encourage me. I was so hard. I knew she could see my stiff cock through the material of my jeans.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
“Can I put my shirt on?”
He face fell. “Don’t be an idiot. That piece of meat between your legs needs to be released from its cage. Unzip your pants and sit in the chair. Pull your pants down far enough that your balls are exposed.”
She walked toward me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to the chair. “Sit! Pull the pants down more and let me see you.”
I couldn’t believe it. My hands did what she told me too. I lifted my ass and pulled down my jeans just below my balls. I looked at my cock in dismay. It hadn’t been this long and hard for some time. Of course having some half-naked crazy lady telling me what to do may have had something to do with it.
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