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By Lostluck (No address)

What had started out to be just an afternoon of wandering around in the Colorado foothills was turning out to be an experience that was not pleasant at all.
Perhaps you would understand a bit better if I filled you in on what was going on. All of my life there has been a burning deep inside me to seek adventure. I want to, no I need to, find out what is over that next hill or around that next turn in the road. If I look at a map and see all the nice freeways and byways that are designated as "Interstate" this and "Interstate" that, then boredom sets in and, yawning, I put the map away and choose some other route.
Any time I have headed out on vacation the tug of adventure has caused me to abandon the proven route and, literally, forced me to drive down the forbidden or undiscovered path. Oh, I suppose there is a psychological reason for this or, perhaps, I'm a reincarnation of some ancient explorer or, maybe, it is just born into some people and they can't help it. I know I can't.
I joined the merchant marine when I was quite young, simply because I had read somewhere these ships wandered all over the world; I wanted to see the world.When we were in port and loading the ship, I was like a caged tiger pacing from rail to rail and bow to stern hoping we would get underway before I went bananas. I had seen this portion of the world and I wanted to get on with seeing the rest of it; wanderlust, I guess you call this. Where were we going? Who cared as long as it was somewhere different from where we were at the moment. I have never taken a train, a plane or a ship, other than the merchant marine, to get where I wanted to go.In view of the fact I have seen most of the world via the maritime service, this form of travel no longer appeals to me. Now, when I go somewhere I take the only form of transport that satisfies as far as I'm concerned and that is the four-wheeled vehicle called the automobile. Planes fly over things and all you see are colored patterns, ships can't go into valleys and hidden places, trains roar past most of the good spots without stopping and all you see is a blur of wooden poles holding up wires and the back fences of the poorest neighborhoods in America, but the car can be maneuvered into most any place. Well, not all places as I often discovered.Which brings me to the present situation. I had traveled from New York to where I was presently parked. I had purchased a small motor home type vehicle and I was towing a small Japanese truck behind it. When I arrived at a destination point, I parked the mobile home, disconnected the truck and called it home. I had everything handy that my New York apartment offered, but this motor home could move from city to city and state to state. My New York apartment was right where I had left it and this was not to my liking. So, here I was parked in a small RV park in the foothills f the Colorado Rockies. My intentions were simply to explore, nothing more than that.
I wanted to see what was around the next corner and over that next hill. After getting all set up and the sewer and water hoses connected, I went in to town and had a good stiff double martini and ordered a filet mignon and baked potato and then went whole hog and ordered a Caesar salad. The steak was terrific, but the place was empty and the waiter, obviously bored, was leaning against the bar and when I finished I waved him over wanting to talk.
He came up and said, "Everything all right, sir? Do you want the check or would you like some dessert?" I wanted conversation, no dessert and I would, of course, take the check. I signed, using my Visa Card, and gave him a tip and said, "I'm going exploring with my 4-by in the morning and I was wondering if you were a native of this area and familiar with the terrain?" He assured me he was all of the above and proceeded to draw me a map of a terrific road which would lead me to all sorts of high adventure. After breakfast in the RV campgrounds so-called "restaurant", I headed out to follow the route outlined by my friend the waiter. It was beautiful and worthwhile driving through. The month was August and it was sort of dry, but still there was a lot of foliage at this high altitude. I would guess I was at about 10 or 11 thousand feet when I began having doubts. The road was alive with animals in the shape of deer, bear and what I took to be wolf.A coyote or two loped across in front of me and, on occasion, the sky seemed filled with eagles and hawks of one sort or another.
Suddenly, however, I became aware I was no longer on the main drag. I don't have any notion as to what occurred, but the road I was now on was just a mite better than driving through rough, unimproved terrain.Thank god for four wheel drive and, best of all, I had two external five-gallon tanks of extra gasoline. I bumped and bounced for more than an hour, but could see nothing except another ridge, another valley and another ridge melding into a steady stream of the same thing over and over. The road had been leveled at one time or another, but it had long since deteriorated and was bumpy and loose and the drop off on my right side went down forever. Bad business.
To make it worse it was beginning to spatter rain. Not hard, not steady, but this was a sandy clay type road and rain was going to make this baby impassable in short order.Bouncing over the next ridge gave me a look at the same view I had been seeing for the past hour; nothing but another valley and, on the horizon, another ridge.Cracking a quick peek at the gas gauge led me to the conclusion the two cans of gas tied on back were just about what was needed for the gauge to read "full" once more. I could go no further; I had to turn around.
Where does one turn around on a road like this? The rain was coming down harder now and the road was just wide enough to allow the tires of this little old truck to find rolling room and not much more. Whoops, I felt it slide a little and I got all kinds of doubts in my mind after that. So, taking the bull by the horns I did a left into the side of the mountain, backed up until I didn't dare back any further, bumped the radiator into the mountain and backed again, over and over until I was headed back the way I had just come.
Over 2 hours later, the gas gauge was bumping against the "E" once more, my two extra cans of gas were history and my trip was about over as far as transportation in this vehicle was concerned. It was hot and muggy, the rain was helping make things even worse and I was going to have to pull it over shortly and walk. At the first spot that offered a tiny place to pull off out of harms way, I parked the truck, locked it and headed down the road. No water, no hiking boots, no backpack, no food.
I was dripping sweat, scared shitless and thirsty enough to suck the liquid out of a skunks ass when I saw smoke rising up among the trees to my left. Maybe somebody was up among the sheltering pines, bro. Head for it. Climbing and falling and climbing again, I snaked my way to within hailing distance of what appeared to be a small farmhouse and shed sitting out here in the wilderness and, yep, there definitely was smoke coming out of the chimney.
Not knowing how the local yokels treated strangers in these parts, I decided to make no further moves until I yelled and got the lay of the land. What I didn't know at that moment was that the last four words of that thought were about to be visited on me; a gift from heaven. Lay of the land, indeed."Heeelllllooooooo! Anyone at home up there?" Nothing.Try it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. I waited a few seconds and decided to try to go ahead and walk on in.I had taken no more than three steps when a soft, definitely female voice off to my left said, "One more step, mister, and you got an hours worth of work pickin' buckshot outta yore hide. Don't move another inch." Looking around I could see nothing at all; just lots of pine trees standing side by side for miles.Then the voice said, "Wadd a ya' want way out here?"I explained what had happened and all that I wanted to do was get a cool drink of water, freshen up a bit, get some water to carry along and some instructions on how to get out of here and I would be on my way."Well, why didn' ya say so. Head on up ta the house and I'll meet ya' there."When I arrived there was no sign of life except for the biggest goddam dog in all of Colorado. Mean looking, too, so I decided to just stop and stand there, because he didn't look like he wanted any further travel from me; not toward the house, anyway. After a few seconds a girl appeared in the farmhouse doorway and ordered the dog off and said to me, "Well come on up if ya' want somethin' cold ta drink." As I neared the doorway, I could see she was a young kid, really, not more than 25 or so and what I could see above and below the sort of baggy dress she was wearing, was quite a lot of woman. Her hair was done up in a bun and straight as a die, but blonde as all get out; well a kind of dirty blonde. From the mountain sun I guessed because it looked like it should have been light brown. She was kind of cute, too, not gorgeous, not even pretty, but she was still holding a double barreled shotgun at her side; taking no chances, I guess, and this sort of took away any tendency for her to be pretty as far as I was concerned.When I was within a yard or so of her she backed into the kitchen and invited me in. Jesus it was good to sit down. Wiping the sweat off my face, I said, "Don't tell me you live all alone out here in the middle of nowhere."She had a cute tinkly little laugh and said, "Oh, heck no. My husband is here with me, but he's gone out workin' his gold mine out there in tha hills. So, it's just me and Charlie, my buddy, here for the time it takes my hubby to get back down from the ridge.""What does your husband do? Go to work each morning and come home each afternoon?"The tinkly little giggle again and she said, "No, heck no. He'll be gone for a few weeks or maybe a coupla months if he finds any gold. Or even if he don't find any.""Aren't you afraid to be alone like this?""Naw, not with ole Charlie around, he'd tear anything apart that tried to do me in, even a bear. He did once, too. Wasn't no bear, but it was a bobcat and it gave me a bad time out in the yard while I was feedin' tha chickens. Wanted a chicken, I guess, but ole Charlie didn't give him a chance. Chased that danged cat clear into the next county, I guess. Matter of fact, that's how I knew you was comin'; ole Charlie let me know as soon as ya' left the road." All the while she was talking, she was moving about the kitchen making a pitcher of lemonade or something out of a yellow can and each time she passed in front of the open door I could see her cute shape under that baggy dress. She didn't have stitch one on under that thing. Cute shape, too. Wow!Finally, she put the pitcher in front of me with a glass and said, "Drink up. Fresh up. Sorry I ain't got no ice, but the water comes from a deep mountain spring and is coldern' all get out. Sorry the lemonade ain't fresh, but we can't get 'em up here, lest we go down the mountain to the nearest store."I assured her it would be fine, but she needn't have gone through all that trouble as water would have worked just as well. But, it did taste good and I refilled the glass two more times. As we sat there at the table she was watching me very closely and I said to her, "You seem to be studying me. Why?""No reason. Just wanted to see your features and that sorta stuff. I don't get to see too many people other than my husband and it's nice to be near another human for a change.""You live up here all the time?""Not all the time. We have another farm down in the valley, but we spend most of our time here, summers that is, until the snow gets too bad and we hafta go down the slope. So we're here from about the middle of March until about October and then it gets too bad.So, with a little bit of luck we'll be goin' down about 6 or 8 weeks or so from now.""How long does your husband stay away during all this time?" "Most of it. I get pretty lonely so it's kinda nice to have another human to talk to.""Well, thank you for the cold drink. It was delicious and now, if you have a place I can freshen up, I'll rinse the sweat off and be on my way. On my way, that is, if you can head me in the right direction." "You can't walk outta here. Ain't ya' got some form of transportation at all?""I have a truck about a zillion miles that way, but no gas so it won't do any good to think about that.""We got gas. See that pump backa tha barn. Full all the time. My husband brings up about three or four big drums like that and stores them here for his Jeep. So, we can fix ya' up with gas. I'll hitch up the mules tomorrow and we'll go get yore truck. No sweat." "Oh, I couldn't ask you to do all of that, but it would be nice if you have an empty can. I'll take some and get the truck up here this afternoon. I don't want you to have to put me up for the night. No, no.""I insist. The mules won't care one way or the other."She ended with her tinkly laugh and said, "Now take off your clothes and I'll throw them in the wash tub and give them a good swishin' to get the sweat out.""Take off my clothes? In front of you? Or are you going to be doing the laundry and keep your eyes shut?""No, but ya' needn't be bashful, I ain't. Sides, I seen men with no clothes on before. Why ya' worried, ya' got somethin' ya' don't want me to see? [Another cute tinkly laugh] Now get outta them things and go on down to the horse trough and jump in. I'll bring ya' some soap down inna minute."Jesus, what an offer, I didn't know whether to shit or go blind at this. But I said, bravely, "Well if I'm going to be parading around naked in front of you, the least we can do is introduce ourselves. I'm Ed and you're?""Kathi. Kathi Turner""Ed Morriston. Glad to make your acquaintance.""Go on down and get washin' and I'll bring ya'some soap. I'll even scrub yore back iffen ya want me to."Tinkly giggle."Well, Kathi, your offer is terrific and I'll probably kick myself for saying, no thanks, but I keep thinking about what would happen if, while you were scrubbing away at my back, your husband should decide to visit his old plantation and takes exception to what you're doing to a stranger.""Uh! No problem. He wouldn't care at all. He knows I get lonesome down here; he knows I want someone to kind of make over; to talk to, to be near, to do things for; to sit and eat together, but it so seldom happens he doesn't give it a second thought. So, Ed, there would be no scene; no shouting or getting jealous or anything like that. We have an open marriage; I think that's what they call them now a days. As a matter of fact we used to live in a hippie commune north of San Francisco; lived there for years and he slept with who he wanted and I did too. No, no problem. The same still applies. And if you come right down to it, we probably ain't even married in the eyes of the law.Some itinerant preacher performed the ceremony for us and said we wuz married. I don't even know if he had a license to do that; nothing was ever filed, legally, that I know about. We been livin' like this, married that is, now for nearly 9 years and we ain't been able to produce a baby yet. The clinic doctor says I'm able, but my husband ain't. Now you know why he really could care less about the whole thing. Aw, he likes to get his nuts off when he comes down from the mine, but if I get my jollies some other way it doesn't bother him at all.
"But since we moved here it has happened only once. A deer hunter got lost and spent the night here. We screwed a couple of times during the night and my husband didn't even bother to wake up. Slept through the whole thing. You're the first one to come along since that time and that was over two years ago. As I said, I get lonely up here all by myself and a healthy girl like me needs somebody around to make over, to love and to get some love in return. Jeez, I'd even settle for a kiss or a pat on the butt, but so far I ain't gettin' any of them things and now you tell me no, you don't want me to wash yore back. Makes me wanta cry, almost. As a matter of fact, I was hopin' you'd help me make a baby. That's why I was studyin' you so hard when you first came to the house. I wanted to sort of picture what kinda baby you could make. Good one and cute, I'll bet, 'cause yore cute."Jesus, I didn't know how to respond to all of this, but by the time she finished this speech I had a lump in my throat about the size of a cantaloupe and felt so sorry for her I didn't know what to say. Here I am, a grown man, traveling on my own, no ties to anyone anywhere, standing naked in the farmyard of a mountain cabin, listening to a sad tale told by a cute young chick about 10 years younger than I am and not knowing whether to believe it or not. She sounded sincere, though, and there were lots of her kind dotting these hills and valleys. I took her hand in mine and said, "I feel so sorry for you living like this that I could cry. But I still have your husband in the back of my mind and that bothers me no end.""Okie, Ed. He's been gone for quite a while; it takes him almost a week to get up to the mine. He takes a burro along to carry his gear; his tent and food and stuff and he always plans on bein' gone at least a month. He couldn't get back at the earliest even if he just went up, took a look and headed back, lessen a week from tomorrow. No way. Come on, be a sport. Help me make a baby. You can can't you?" "Sure I could, but I've often said to myself if I ever had a kid by anyone I'd wanta know about it and see it and touch it and help it grow and go to school and stuff and if I knock you up doing an overnight stand and then drift away I could never realize all those dreams of mine. Capeesh?""Oh, sure. I understand, but I'd keep in touch with you and come and visit you if you don't live too far away. We ain't got a whole lot of money, you know, 'cause I think that mine is more rock than anything else and you can't buy food with gravel and rocks.Then, too, you got a means of gettin' here. You could come and spend a week or so and play with our new baby anytime ya' would want. I'd want ya' to do that."That was the bone crusher for me. I reached out, then, and took this cute little thing into my arms and crushed her body up to mine. She literally molded herself to my frame, wrapping her arms around me like a long lost sister. I kissed her then, a deep and penetrating kiss and, as our tongues intertwined she began to move her torso and push her cunt right against my thigh, rubbing it hard into my leg. She began to sob, too, and I could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and on to mine. Coming up for air, she said, "Ed. You'll never regret this, I promise with all my heart and soul. You'll never be sorry for this, for sure. So let's get you bathed and then we'll start makin' babies. Go ahead and get in the hoss trough and I'll get some soap."She was like a little kid with a new Christmas toy; she literally danced back to the farmhouse and by the time I had ensconced myself up to my shoulders in the cool water she was on her way back, bar of soap in one hand, towels in the other and naked as a jaybird. The trough was a perfect place to bathe. It was made of wood and was rather large and fairly deep. Made of heavy planking, it was about 4 feet wide and six or so feet long. At one end of the trough was a windmill for pumping the water in and on the other end was a flat wooden table that was used for washing clothes and that sort of stuff. She was skipping and hopping all the way here and she had let her hair down and it was bobbing and bouncing with each skip she made. Really a sight to see.
As a matter of fact my old pecker was now standing fully at attention under the water. She climbed in by throwing her left leg over the side like mounting a boys bicycle, her little slit opened up wide and, boy, was I glad I had made this decision. Best move you ever made Ed, old boy. This was working itself up into a situation that would be imbedded in my memory forever and then some.
Getting one foot in and the other on the ground caused her to swing that cute little ass in my direction and I couldn't help myself; I reached out and gave it a couple of pats. She froze rock still and wiggled it for me to do it again. Her pussy was wide open, standing spread eagled like that, so the natural thing to do was go from pat to feel and I did so. Running my hand up and down the slit caused her to moan and groan already and she hunkered her butt down to make better contact with my fingers so I extended my middle finger and shoved it all the way in her, now, dripping wet pussy.
We weren't even into this thing yet and she was showing signs of coming apart. I removed my hand, then, and said, "Come on in the water's fine." She swung the other leg in and gave me another x-rated view of her snatch. It was a cute thing, tiny like she was, she couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds and didn't appear to be more than 5 feet tall in her bare feet; maybe a bit less. Her hair was what is referred to as dishwater blonde, but her pussy hairs were golden yellow and very sparse.
As she sat down submerging her tits in the process I saw they, too, were small but stuck straight out, not one line of sag in either one. The nipples just came to a sort of rounded point and were a delicate shade of beige. Cute package any way you looked at it. She was the small, cute package type a guy likes to dream of, with him lying on his back, putting his pecker in, having her hold her legs up out of the way and giving her a good spin to see how many rotations she could make, jesus, what a thought.
She held the soap up and said, "You first, slide down this way a little bit and I'll wash your hair for you.This ain't the best shampoo in the world, but it'll have to do."
With that I bent my head down and she washed my hair thoroughly, rinsed it and went on down from there. She worked extra hard on my nipples which sent some shock waves through my system kissing and sucking each one when she finished, and then, kneeling in the water, asked me to stand up. When I did my hard on splashed up out of the water like a small submarine breaking the surface after a deep dive. Taking the head in her hand, she soaped my dick from hair to head and then started working the lather in and around the folds of my foreskin. I had never been circumcised and she washed the folds of skin very well indeed. As a matter of fact, I had to caution her about being too brisk with her hands or I was going to shoot my load right into her hair standing at his angle. So, she turned me around and went to work on my ass, crack, hole, balls and all.She did my back and legs to where they entered the water and then had me sit on the little table on the end of the trough so she could get to my feet and lower calves. Then she told me to rinse off and see if anything else had to be washed. Satisfied with her job she asked me to sit back down in the water and gave me the soap. "Now it's my turn. Be inventive." [Little tinkly giggle.]I went to work on her hair while she was sitting down, but to do so I had to stand up and this, of course, put my horizontal dong within reach of her mouth which she put to work, immediately, Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub and as I sloshed the soap around in her hair she gave slosh for suck and we were off an running. As I moved down to her face and ears and neck, she would take my foreskin and pull it out until it covered the head of my dick and, then, with her lips right at the end, move the foreskin back very slowly until the head was completely in her mouth and then she would go to work on the underside of the head with her tongue fluttering it like the touch of a butterflies wings.Jeepers, what a feeling, so I told her I couldn't take much more of that or I was going to waste this load.She quit, then, 'cause she said she didn't want me to waste any jizz just shootin' it in the water and got up on the table so I could wash her private parts as she called them.
Lying on her back, now, with knees drawn up and wide apart I was presented free access to her "privates" and I went to work on her with a will. I soaped her pussy and asshole, worked my way up each thigh to the knees and then on down to her feet. Getting all of this soaped thoroughly, I went back to work on her cunt. I lathered, I scrubbed, I rinsed and I played with it; I kissed it and fingered it. She was really moaning and moving her hips up and down in a rotary motion at my ministrations and, finally, I leaned down and started to kiss her right in the middle of all the pink spots.Believe me when I say this was one of the cutest little female love holes I had ever seen. It was, as I said, sparsely covered with hair, making it look somewhat like it had been shaved and that has always turned me on.
Just the thought of a shaved pussy is enough to give me a hardon and here was one that was naturally shaved.Hot shit! I couldn't help it, I leaned down and started to tongue from the bottom of the slit to the top and back again. The best part of the whole thing was the table she was on was just the right height for me to sit in the water, pull her forward and her cunt was right at the level of my mouth. Believe me when I say, I gave her a tongue-lashing the like of which not many women ever have had.