It was a beautiful Summer day and I had decided to spend it working at my hunting land, cutting some trees that bent across the trails during an ice storm in the Winter. I was hiking down a trail through lush green Wisconsin woodland, listening to the songbirds and mentally apologizing to them for the ruckus I would soon be making. I had a chainsaw in hand and a hardhat on my head. But first, I had a different call of nature to answer to. I set the saw and hardhat down and stepped off the trail near my deepest pond to take a leak, never expecting that one of my oldest fantasies would come true that day.
Her POV
Where the fuck did this guy come? I'm having a swim in a pond on the property my Yank husband just recently inherited in rural Wisconsin. At least I thought it was on our property. Turns out I was a wee bit over the border, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I was riding on my husband's ATV to familiarize myself with the trails and borders when I came upon this tantalizing pond. The weather was prime for a dip and I thought I was safely hidden from all eyes.
I've barely had 10 minutes when I look up and see this yellow safety helmet bobbing through the trees. Underneath it is an older looking woodsman or maybe lumberjack is the word. Before I go any further, please forgive me if I don't get the lingo right as I've only been in America for two years. He's tall and he's wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and carrying a chainsaw. He doesn't seem to like shaving as he's got about a two week white beard.
I tuck up behind a bush so he doesn't spy me. I'm not wearing a stitch and even though he's trespassing, I don't want to make a scene, at least not until he threatens one of my trees. But it never gets that far, because he sets his saw down, and starts having a pee. He doesn't just pull his willy through his fly. He opens his belt and his jeans and drops his boxers enough so his balls are hanging halfway to his knees. His cock isn't very impressive and he also doesn't have much pressure in his firehose. I don't know why he looks my way, but he spys me and his eyes just about pop out of his noggin.
His POV
I was just about finished when a ripple in the water caught my attention and I turned to see a naked woman hiding behind a bush at the water's edge and watching me. This was one of those dream-come-true moments for me. I don't know why, but I had often fantasized about being caught while pissing by a beautiful naked woman out in the woods. Something about whipping my taproot out in the wide open makes me think of naked women. It was clear that she knew I'd seen her, so I finished as nonchalantly as possible, tucked my lizard back in and said, "Sorry Ma'am. I didn't intend to expose myself to you."
She said, "Oi, no problem, but please go away now. You're trespassing on private property."
"I'm very sorry ma'am, but I think there are three things you should know. No wait, four things. There are four things you should know. First, you're on my land without my permission. If you came here on the trail from the Walters' property, the fence is about 100 yds. that away, but it's not easy to see at the trail because a tree fell on it. I was just heading that way to fix it."
"Oh, damn! I'm sorry. I was hoping this lovely pond was mine. I was riding the trails on the Walters' property. I didn't mean to trespass. If you'll turn around, I'll just get out and leave."
"Well that's okay, Ma'am, there's no harm done and if you're a friend of Bud Walters, you can ride here if you want. I'll fix the fence, but you'll be able to open it so you can ride my trails. Just don't ride here from September to January. But the second thing you should know is that there are snapping turtles in that pond. I fished a big one out for soup last week and threw one back that wasn't quite big enough."
"Well, I'm not afraid of snapping turtles, they don't bite if you leave them alone. Now please, just give me some privacy and I'll be on my way."
"Well I didn't think it was gonna bite you, but people around here know that snappers bring hitchhikers when they move from pond to pond. The third thing you might want to consider is that the one I pulled out was hosting about a dozen leeches."
"Leeches! Arghhh!"
It was actually comical watching her thrash her way out of the water and scurry behind the bush that she had hung her clothes on.
"Oh shit, there's one on my arm!"
"Don't pull it..."
Too late. She grabbed it and pulled it off. The mouth end didn't let go and the leech broke, squirting blood on her arm. Then the fun began.
"Ohhhhhhh," she moaned as she wobbled a bit and then collapsed in a heap into the wild raspberry stickers. I rushed over and she was passed out, blood streaming from her arm and an almost serene look on her pretty face. I quickly grabbed her bra from the bush and wrapped it around her arm so one cup would pad the bleeding wound and its still sucking cause, a fat half-leech. Then I tied her other arm to the first with the straps. I covered her bare and very gorgeous breasts with her T-shirt. I thought about taking off my shirt to cover her flame red pubic patch, but I quickly decided that it might not be a good idea for her to wake up and find a half-naked, almost bald, gray haired and grizzled old codger hovering over her. The only thing about that that I could do anything about was keep my shirt on.
I held her trapped wrists with one hand as I tapped her face gently and called to her.
"Miss. Miss. Miss. Wake up."
Her POV
"Ohhhhhhh. What the..." I look up and start to struggle, but the dozen small pains in my bare backside quickly become 100 and he's holding my bound arms with a surprising amount of strength for a guy his age.
"Don't struggle. You're safe. I promise. You fainted and fell into the stickers. Your arm is bleeding and there might be more leeches on you. No! Take it easy. They won't kill you, but you can't just pull them off. Let me pull you up and we can get you dressed and cleaned up and I'll get the bloodsuckers off you. Just promise me you won't pull anymore of them."
"You'll get them off?" I ask.
"Yes, just don't worry about them for now. Just hold onto my hands and I'll hoist you straight up. See if we can't minimize the damage to that pretty ass. On the count of three, now. One, two, three."
He hauls me up and once again his strength amazes me. I'm not light and he's not particularly well muscled, but when he tightens everything at once, his pull feels solid and unstoppable. My shirt falls to the ground and his eyes seem like they're drawn to my breasts by magnets. He frees one wrist and ties my bra around the wound on the other. I bend over to grab my shirt but he says, "You need to check all over, every square inch, even between your toes and behind your ears and any other places they might hide."
He must sense that I don't trust him. Not that I have any real choice. But I suddenly catch his Monty Python reference and I start to feel better. People who quote Monty Python skits aren't usually serial killers. At least I think not.
"Don't worry, Ma'am. I made a promise to my wife that all beautiful redheaded damsels-in-distress would be safe with me this week. No promises about next week though."
The fact that he addresses my fear so directly helps. If he's going to hurt me, I think he'll just do it, not waste time telling me he won't. He's got me out here where nobody can see what happens. I decide that the leeches are a bigger concern. Add to that that I'm a bit of an exhibitionist and this was more excitement than I'd had in many months.
"Uh... this is embarrassing. I can't see everywhere. Will you inspect the areas I can't see?"
His POV
My heart thumped and my swizzle stick stirred at that request. "Well, like where do you mean?"
"Like my whole backside. I can't see my own arse!"
"Your arse? Are you a Brit? Around here we say ass."
"I'm a Scot, so yes, technically I'm a Brit, but my husband's a Yank, excuse me an American, and he likes the way I say arse. So how about it?"
"We've been called worse than Yank, Ma'am. I'll be happy to look at your arse for you and I'll try not to enjoy it too much."
She pulled her long red wet tresses to one side and I confirmed that her back was clear. I knelt behind her and checked the backs of her legs, which were also clear. "Do you want to spread your cheeks or should I?"
"Oh god this is embarrassing." She leaned forward and pulled her gorgeous buttcheeks open with both hands. There was a leech in there, right about halfway between her wrinkled rosebud and the soft pink folds of her pussy.
"Good call Ma'am, you've got one on your taint." It was crawling and not attached yet, so I quickly grabbed it and pulled it from her.
Her POV
I feel his hand suddenly dig into my crotch and tug some of my pubic hair.
"Ooh. Oi! I thought you said not to pull them."
"Sorry Ma'am, but this one wasn't attached yet. Here, see?" The fat black wriggler was trying to latch onto his thumbnail and I got a little woozy when I thought about where it had almost got a meal. I nodded my head and he threw it back towards the pond.
"My taint? What's that?"
"Well, it's right between your... Well it taint puss... er, vagina and it taint er, arse."
"You do know there's a proper name for that, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but most people around here wouldn't know their perineum from their philtrum and they're at opposite ends of the alimentary canal. So it's just called a taint."
I turn around and laugh and point at the two lines from my upper lip to my nose and say, "Now just keep your eyes on my philtrum while I cover my perineum." He seems disappointed that the show's over, but I notice the bulge in his jeans and I don't want to seem ungrateful. "Thank you for helping me, Sir."
"Call me Chuck. I'm Charles Cochran. I own this parcel. Lucky I came by when I did, you could have been covered by those things."
"I'm Alice Walters and I'm pleased to meet you, Chuck."
"Oh, you must be Mikey Walters' bride. Bud told me he was getting married."
"We married two years ago. We met in London about five years ago. Now, how do I get this fuckin' parasite off my arm? Pardon my French."
"Oh, don't worry about your French. I fuckin' speak French, too. The way to get them to release is to put salt on 'em, right near their head. They let go and then die a horrible writhing death."
"That suits me just fine. I'll ride back to the house to get some salt."
"I've got some in my camp, if you want. It's just a short walk. I don't think you should ride so soon after going lights out."
"You'll remember that promise to your wife?" I'm still not sure that I can trust him, but I find myself wanting to get to know him better. I guess you could say that I'm attracted to helpful men and not just on a mental 'he could be useful' level.
He picks up his chainsaw, puts his safety helmet on his head and says, "Alice, I promise that you'll be remembering the day I tied you up naked for a long time and it will be a happy memory. I love my wife and I'll be relying on you not to
make me regret that I stopped to take a leak here today. If I can trust you on that, you can trust me to take good care of you."
His American country mannerisms are clearly intended to put me at ease, so I put on my best movie cowboy imitation and say, "You got a bargain, pardner."
He laughs and then surprises me by putting on a movie aristocrat Brit persona and says, "I say old girl. You're a bit of a smart arse, aren't you?"
"That's smart ass, pardner. An ass is a dumb animal that you sit on and an arse is... not an animal." I'm pleasantly surprised by how much I'm warming to this man.
As we walk to his camp, I explain that old Bud passed away in the Spring and left his homestead and lands to Mike. I tell him that Mickey's working in Green Bay and visiting on the weekends and that I teach Summer School at my new job in the county school system, where I have to be very careful to use proper English with the little sprogs. I tell him how I hate living in the city and love the farmhouse so we decided to move here and that Mickey will be moving out of the city in time for Christmas.
He tells me that he was a retired engineer and an amateur gynecologist. "That's a code for dirty old man."
I laugh and say, "Not so old I think. You remind me of one of my professors at uni. He's a highlander and has a rugged rural thing going for him." I don't tell him that the older man was my first lover or that I left Scotland after the scandal that caused and moved to England and hated living there, too.
Chuck's POV
The way she talked about her professor sounded like a memory of an old lover, so I took a shot in the dark.
"Got into your knickers, did he?"
"Oi! Now who's the smart ass?" She laughed, but it was clear that I had guessed correctly. I also saw a moment of sadness touch her eyes, but it passed quickly. An old hurt had clearly surfaced and I made a note not to mention it again.
At my camp, I opened the cooler that I keep outside and held up a beer. "Can I beer ya?" It was a domestic knock-off of brown ale and was the closest thing I could find locally to the 'Neukie Browns' that my Brit coworkers had favored when we hit the pubs on my one visit to London. Its main feature is that it doesn't need to be chilled to near freezing like other domestic beers to make it palatable. Alice looked as if she was about to say no, but when she saw that bottle, she changed her mind. "I guess I could use a little liquid courage."
I twisted the cap off and gave it to her and got one for myself before going inside my small camper trailer. She stepped hesitantly in behind me. "Do you live here, Chuck?"
"No. this is just my deer camp. I live about 30 miles away.