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Annie's Surprise

A young man gets a surprise from his hostess.
I woke up on the last morning of my stay at the secluded mountain cabin, with the sun shining in through the windows. I looked over at the mechanical clock next to my bed, and saw that it was still early. Today, I would have to gather up my gear and continue my extended wilderness hike through the mountains of Colorado, but I wanted to experience the warmth of the bed for a few minutes more. I also wanted to explore another form of comfort.

When this happened, I was 20 years old, a bright and strapping young lad who was quite a man when it came to being alone in the wilderness, and quite a boy when it came to other things. But I did have the libido of a 20 year old man, which had been bottled up by the exhaustion of my trip. And over the past three days, he had been unable to gain respite because of the presence of the caretaker of the cabin, a woman named Annie.

Annie was a European woman who had somehow inherited a small fortune, or at least enough money to buy this cabin in an isolated valley high in the Rockies. It was small, had a generator and water pump, and she left it open for the few hikers who were sturdy enough to make it this far. She was an older woman, in her late 40s, but still quite attractive, in a viking way. In the hot summer, she had been wearing short white sundresses, and I had been spending the last few days trying to be gentlemanly and not to look at her cleavage. But this morning, I found myself very hard, and my hand found its way to , my penis, and I started stroking, imagining her yesterday, when I had seen her at night in her dressing gown, her nipples poking up against the fabric. I had meant to just give myself a few idle strokes, but as hard as I was, my hand just moved of its own will, and being 20 and deprived, it only took me a minute or two to shudder and come, a heavy load spurting out all over the blankets.

Which turned me back to reality... I would leave today, and then she would find what I had done to her blankets. I knew I should do something about it, but in my post-orgasmic daze I was too satiated to move. I also didn't think, being so young and horny, that my rustling of the old squeaky metal bed would have been loud enough to wake anyone...and alert them to what I was doing.

When the door opened, my eyes were still closed, and I opened them quickly, to see Annie waiting there in one of her little white dresses, holding a tray with toast and orange juice on it.

"Hello," she said, in her distinctive accent. "I thought you would need an early breakfast for your day ahead." I started to rearrange myself with great fluster, since my cock was still poking out underneath the blankets, and I just hope the wet spot hadn't soaked through. She sat down next to me, and I tried to eat toast and drink orange juice with just my left hand, my right one still being quite sticky. She told me that she would miss me, what a good guest I had been, and I agreed and said the same, and wondered what she would say if she knew what I had just done. (Naive me!)

And then she said, "For good luck," in her cute little foreign accent, and leaned down and kissed me, and then sat back up. My head was looking directly at her full breasts underneath the dress, and her sly smiling face above it.

I took the initiative in my own way, and said, "Again," although my heart was pounding in my throat. She leaned down and we kissed, and we kissed again, and before I knew it, she was draped across me. Luckily, I was too aroused to stop and think about what had happened. I had been fantasizing about Annie for the past few days, but in my young mind, older women's sexuality --- and my own --- were both kind of abstract qualities.

Her thigh brushed against my hardness, and she giggled and said, "You must be enjoying this." Then she took down the blanket, to reveal my cock, still covered with my drying juices.

"You should have asked me for help." She kissed me, more deeply than before and then whispered in my ear, "And of course I heard you, silly." She then leaned backwards, hiked up her dress, and I got my first glimpse of her pussy, and its nice little thatch of blond pubic hair. She spread her legs over my cock, and slowly impaled herself on me.

Although I had my own furtive experiences, this was my first real sex. She begin to buck up and down, and the sensation was indeed all that had been promised. But for all of that, the hottest part of it for me at the time was her moans and whimpers, intermixed with her dirty talk. Her accent became much stronger when she was aroused, and she would occasionally through in a phrase in Danish, Dutch, Italian or possibly all three that was incomprehensible, although I know it meant something good. Her position allowed her to control my climax, but finally I came again, her pressure too much for me to resist. We collapsed in a sweaty pile, and the beating in my ears finally went down, I was satiated, and amazed. I tried to whisper something coherent, some type of thank you for the incredible experience. She just whispered back and said, "We aren't done yet."

Did I mention I was 20 when this happened? Do any of you men remember what it was like to be 20, and to be able to masturbate three times in a night with just a lingerie catalog for inspiration? Imagine all that lust being focused on a suddenly available fantasy object. It only took me another 15 minutes to regain my erection. I then mounted her, and this time I rode her, my shyness already evaporating as I learned to be rough with her.

Then we got up and had breakfast, and went and sat by the side of the river. Other than sex, we actually had a bit in common, since we were both people who were in tune with the wild. She told me about how much she loved it here, but that she could get lonely, which is why she was so direct with me... she had been waiting days for me to make a move, and had been giving me more and more cleavage. And then, of course, we kissed again. Which led, in short order, to me having her on her hands and knees in the river as I moved into her from behind.

I didn't leave that day. I stayed another three days, quickly becoming accustomed to using her how and when I wanted, and with her always obliging me. We hiked around to some of our favorite spots in the valley, and I had her against rocks, on top of rocks, against trees, in trees (took a bit of doing), in the water, and so on. She let my sperm stay in her, or, when I wanted to come on her rich full breasts, on her. Beneath my shy facade, I quickly learned how to be aggressive and dominant, which she appreciated. It was, obviously, a dream come true. And then it started to rain, and I had another reason to stay with her, this time enjoying the warmth of her house, and her showing me some of the fun of indoor sex, including her many costumes that she had stashed away in the cabin.

I never did finish my hike, although I discovered something quite as wonderful. I did eventually have to return to civilization, bidding Annie a sad farewell, but there would be other summers, and other winters, that I would make my way up to her cabin.

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