I love reading stories in Lush that are set in some natural scene. You know the kind of thing – solo camping when two horny girls pitch a tent next door, randy chalet girls on a skiing holiday, hiking through the woods when you happen upon a couple making love on the bank by a waterfall and they ask you to join in.

All good fantasy and the kind that I wished would happen to me one day.

But life’s not like that. It never happens to you, does it? Only to other people, or only in fantasy erotic stories.

Or does it?

Last year I had the trip of a lifetime to New Zealand. It was an opportunity to check out what friends had been telling me for years about that amazing country. They were right, of course. Every corner you turn reveals another stunning vista, even more beautiful than the one before.

I should have realised fate was going to smile on me for a change when I signed up for a hiking trip – the clue was in the name. It was the Hooker Valley track, taking in the Hooker River and leading to the Hooker glacier lake.

Not quite what you think, but close!

I had blown quite a sum on this holiday and had rented what can only be described as a luxury hut, set in a glorious landscape and with views out across the unbroken countryside with no human habitation in that direction, only the small village behind my hut.

I had decided to set out on this trek as it was not too strenuous but still, by all accounts, stunning. I was going with a group that ranged from single men and young women, to hardened older couples, definitely retired and clearly set on spending their kid’s inheritance through travel. Well, good luck to them, but they showed me up for the unfit soul I am.

The Hooker valley hike is serious nature and panorama overload, with astounding views of Mount Sefton, boiling streams, swing bridges to cross, and of course the tallest mountain in New Zealand, Mount Cook.

Meeting with the group was all hale and hearty but the organisers only had one leader, apologising that there would be no-one at the back of the group, so we were to try and keep up. The route, however, was clearly marked so ‘no worries, just catch up when you can.’

Off we set, and my lack of fitness soon became apparent and l lagged behind the group by an increasing distance.

I soon found myself alone in this amazing place and really enjoyed the solitude and tranquillity that embraced me, knowing I couldn’t get lost. It was November, so the temperature was ideal for walking and we were lucky to have a clear blue sky and little wind.

As I walked, listening to the birdlife, I heard a strange noise, or perhaps not so strange and one I hadn’t heard for far too long. Moving slowly around a corner in the path, I stopped and stared.

Just off the path was one of our group, a very pretty girl, who was leaning against a tree, apparently looking at the view, with one hand under her tee-shirt apparently scratching an itch, while the other was plunged into her tight, cut-off jean shorts, also seemingly scratching an itch.

It’s been a while, did I say? It rapidly dawned on me that this girl was masturbating, out in the open for anyone to see, and oh was I enjoying what I saw.

She seemed to be pinching her nipples and giving little cries of pain while the hand in her shorts sped up to fever pitch before she almost doubled over with a cry of, “Oh God, I needed that,” before giving herself a shake and carrying on along the path.

For some reason, this vision had given me renewed strength in my walking and it wasn’t long before I caught up with her.

“Oh hi,” I called from a short way back, “are you with the same group as me?”

She blushed but made no comment on what she’d been up to earlier, presumably hoping I hadn’t seen anything. “Hi, yes, I’m Emily,” she replied with an American accent. Without thinking, she held out her hand and we shook.

“Jack,” I said, “I’m rather slow so I’m glad I caught up with someone.”

“Me too,” she replied, let’s try and catch them up.” And off she set.

Following her beautiful bottom was far better than any damned mountain or stream, and her denim shorts showed a little check with every stride. This was my best walk ever.

Not quite believing what I had just seen, I held my hand up to my nose, and sure enough, it had that magical aroma of girl-cum – I would savour it and the site for years to come I knew. Looking up and seeing her arse again made me add that to my list of memories.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, and we met up with the group to finish the hike. Back in the village, we adjourned to a local bar and enjoyed a cool beer and chatted about all that we had seen that day, well, almost all.

Not surprisingly, I got chatting to Emily and we seemed to click so I invited her to come and see the view from my hut. Not original, not clever, not funny, but it worked. Setting out from the bar, she put her arm through mine as we walked, and she chatted away as if we’d know each other for years.

Suddenly, she looked at me and said, “That’s my hotel – just hang on here a minute while I go and grab something.” And with that, she disappeared through a revolving door and I wondered if I would see her again.

Thankfully, she reappeared with a small grip bag, and without comment, we set off once again to my hut.

Once inside, I took her to the window to show her the view, my mind in overdrive as to what I would do once my excuse for getting her there was fulfilled. I needn’t have worried.

“After what we saw today,” she said, “I didn’t expect anything to come close, but this view is spectacular, and I guess you can see it from the bed?”

“Try it,” I retorted, and she kicked off her shoes and bounced onto the bed before looking out at the view.

Looking me in the eye, and after stuttering what seemed to be an apology for what she was about to say, she started talking nineteen to the dozen.

“I think you need to know a bit about me, Jack, I’m not the fresh-faced young woman, clean-cut and strait-laced as I seem. I reckon you saw me on the trail today, getting myself off while enjoying the view.”

“Well, that’s only the half of it. I have an overwhelming sex-drive but I’m not a nympho and can keep it under some control, so what I think you saw today, was part of my strategy. Bad luck for you probably, but it stopped me from jumping your bones on that trail.”

“You didn’t invite me here to look at the damned view, did you?” she said, and I hung my head.

“Good, I didn’t accept your invitation for the view either. I have a rule. I never make the first move, but always accept an offer like this. If I scare you, let’s quit now.”

“How could you scare me, Emily, you are gorgeous, we both get on well and we both know what we want.”

“OK, a couple more things. To satisfy my needs, I worked for a while as an escort for rich men.”

I laughed, “Oh my, I met a hooker in the Hooker Valley, that’s too good to be true! Shit sorry, that was insensitive. None of that matters to me; you are who you are, and I like what you are. What was the other thing?”

“Don’t think badly of me, Jack, but I like a little pain when I have sex – are you up for that?”

“Hell, yes, I’ve always wanted a mate who would even try that stuff – you tell me what you want, and I’ll perform! It doesn’t feel right going straight from this conversation to the action so how’s about we have something to eat and a glass or two of wine and see where that leads?”

“Deal!” She took my hand and we went into the kitchen area of my hut and between us knocked up a meal, supplemented by a very nice bottle of NZ Pinot Noir.

As the last mouthful of wine went down, Emily stood up and turned away from me, heading for the table in front of the window with the amazing landscape view. Although it had become dark, there was a clear sky and a full moon, so the area took on an ethereal and even more erotic aura.

As she walked, she first kicked off her shoes before pulling her tee-shirt over her head and confirming my thoughts that she was braless. Finally, she dropped those tiny shorts and stood just in her thong, her perfect arse cheeks hiding its thin strap.

Picking up the bag she had brought from the hotel, she took out a few items that had me drooling at the thought of what she had in mind. First some sort of paddle, like a table-tennis bat, then some clothes pegs which my atrophied brain worked out were too smart for that and must be nipple-clamps. Restraints – really? A butt plug, and finally a riding crop.

“Do you want to play, or should I go,” she said in a frighteningly controlled tone of voice.

“Well … I … I’m new to this,” I stuttered, “teach me.”

“Follow your dick and be in control; that’s all I ask.”

It was then that I knew I was made for this. Never had I thought of myself as dominant; I have too much regard for women and couldn’t quite believe that some them wanted to be dominated, let alone hurt. Could this be? ‘Well, let’s see,’ I thought to myself.

Without a word, I turned down the lights to a dim, night-club feel, and we looked out at the vista beyond the window, the moon still striking a light that stopped me in my tracks – but only for a moment.

Getting into role, I whispered in Emily’s ear, “You will do exactly as I say, and thank me for anything I may do. If you say ‘done,’ I’ll stop. Anything else such as ‘enough,’ ‘no more’ or ‘stop’ will be ignored – got it?”

“Shit yes,” she snapped back with a shiver.

‘What the hell now,’ I thought, ‘just get on with it,’ the devil on my shoulder told me. I picked up the nipple-clamps and wincing inwardly at the thought, I suckled each of her perfect breasts in turn, not only because I though a little lubrication might ease the pain, nor to make the nipples stiff ready for the clamps, although it did, but because those beauties just cried out to be suckled.

Spotting the restraints, I slipped the cuffs over each wrist and looped the cord around the table legs, so she was bent over the table, her bottom perfectly placed over the edge and her legs perfectly reaching the floor.

To increase the tension, I left the room and Emily, and went into the bedroom to strip off – my trousers had become somewhat uncomfortable. Once naked, I returned to Emily, and to the accompaniment of a soft groan, I gently pulled down her thong and noted the damp patch before casting them to one side.

“Now girl, I wonder what I’ll do first.” Emily wriggled her arse in a way that could not be ignored. Spotting a bottle of lube for the first time, I picked it up, together with the butt plug and applied one to the other. Emily’s arse looked impossibly small for such an item, so I lubed up a finger and worked it into her.

My cock had been at the ‘ready’ stage of ‘ready, steady, go,’ but was now definitely at the ‘go’ stage, but I held it back. We were each to suffer pain, albeit very different types.

Revelling in the feel of my finger in her arse and the responses I was getting from Emily, I slipped my other hand underneath her and rubbed her clit. She was soaking wet and her moans were getting louder and it wasn’t long before the first orgasm of the evening hit home and I slipped two fingers into her pussy so I could feel the contraction on my fingers in both places.

Her orgasm seemed to have relaxed the sphincter in her arse, so I took the butt plug and worked it into her bum. I was probably too gentle for her, but just the thought of it would be too much for me so I erred on the side of gentleness. Judging by Emily’s responses, I could have gone harder but hey, it suddenly slipped inside to a guttural groan from the girl on the table. Weird but fun.

It was then that I heard something. Emily? I put my ear to her mouth and listened again. A whimper.

Almost imperceptibly I heard, “Fuck me … please?”

“Oh no, not yet, young lady, not until you are ripe and ready.”

Scooping up the paddle, I spanked both cheeks of her gorgeous bottom with what I thought was some force.

“Harder, so much harder. Please?” I was just able to make out from the girl on the table.

Was I enjoying this? I don’t really know. On one hand, tying someone up, sticking something in their bottom and beating them with a table-tennis bat did nothing for me. No, not my scene.

On the other hand, I had never had a sexual partner who was so utterly committed to the task in hand, who had given in totally to the experience, the sensations, and yes, submitting to the power of someone else whom she had to trust completely. And we had only just met.

This was an aphrodisiac to me and yes, I was turned on more than I could remember, and that’s going some. My cock kept veering towards its goal, and I kept holding it back and telling it to be patient. Good things cum to those who wait.

Ah yes, harder, I remember now. Taking the paddle again, I whacked that precious bottom on each cheek even harder to a strange chorus of gurgling pain and pleasure from the delicious Emily.

“Nearly there, girl?” I asked.

“Sooo close,” I just heard in a voice that was so sexy they should bottle it and sell it for a fortune – forget Viagra, that was it.

I couldn’t wait much longer so I decided to go for it, my pulse rate was probably running at close to 150 I was so excited.

I picked up the riding crop – she brought it after all. Her bum was a delightful pink from the paddling, but this was different. Standing to one side, I raised my arm and brought the crop down dramatically on first the right cheek and then the left.

Emily writhed under those strokes and let out the most outrageously tasty stream of invective, not one word of which included, ‘done.’ I hoped she hadn’t forgotten what we agreed but carried on. Six of the best, they say, so that’s what I administered, but being a softy, those six were only three on each cheek.

How could it be, but those welts were beautiful. I touched the slightly raised surface of them, hard lines on a soft bottom. I stroked each cheek to relieve some of the pain and yes, I tried to kiss them better. And then my cock took over. With one easy motion, I sank myself groin deep into her wet and eager cunt.

“About fucking time,” gasped Emily, “now do me, I’m so … fucking … horny.”

I picked up a rhythm like a waltz, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Long, long, short, short, long. Oh, my word, was this heaven. I could feel Emily building and thank goodness that this whole experience had left me slightly detached from reality, so I was lasting way beyond my normal range.

She came. She climaxed. She orgasmed. Whatever you call it, it was the most amazing thing I have experienced – am I allowed to be proud of doing that for her? ‘Well, sod that, let’s do it again,’ I thought.

With one quick movement, I pulled the butt plug out of her arse and slipped my cock from her pussy, straight into the waiting orifice. I slipped in quite easily and kept the waltz going. A gurgle suggested this had been a good idea.

As she came again, equally powerfully, the contractions against my cock were enough to finish me off with an amazing cum that went on and on. I didn’t know a man could spasm that many times, but eventually I slumped over her back and we each turned our heads to look at each other.

I could see tears running down her cheeks and feared I’d overdone things. “That was the best ever,” she said and smiled. They were tears of joy.

I stood up and saw Emily look out at the amazing view once more, as I pulled out of her bottom and saw my cum ooze from her backside and trickle onto the table.

'Isn’t nature wonderful,' I thought to myself, and smiled with joy, just like Emily.