Cabin

The forecast was for a fine weekend. Sunny and bright but not too hot. On both side of the mountains, as well. I'd been caught before where it had been sunny on one side and raining on the other. As I had the entire weekend free I decided that I was going to use one of the lesser used tracks up the side of Mount Fredricks, camp on the top, or use a hikers shed if one was free. The next day I'd come down via a different path. I was taking my camera with me, hoping for some nice wildlife shots.

I set off bright and early Saturday morning. The weather was proving the forecasters accurate and I was full of vim and vigour. I parked at the bottom of Mount Fredricks and was soon on my way. I wasn't racing madly along, just taking my time and enjoying the scenery. Going across one bridge I could see down into the valley and I spotted some deer near the water. With the use of a telescopic lens I might have been standing right next to them and I got a couple of good shots.

Feeling chuffed I continued on my way, smiling happily. At lunch time I stopped for a snack. I was a little surprised to find it was cooler than I'd expected but put this down to the elevation. Late afternoon and I figured another hour or so and I'd be at the top and could make camp. Half an hour later it became dark, fast.

Bewildered I looked up and saw big fat clouds tumbling around the mountain and moving onto my side. It appeared the fricking forecasters had no idea what they were talking about. I hurried up, keeping an eye out for somewhere to shelter as those clouds looked as though they were heavy with rain.

I finally saw a glimpse of light through the trees and a track leading in that direction. I hurried along it, wanting to beg for some shelter before the rains came. I nearly made it. There was a flash of lighting and a roll of thunder and the rain started. Not where I was just yet, but approaching. I was no longer hurrying -- I was flat out running, hearing that downpour getting closer with each moment that passed.

I sort of made it. The rain reached me just as I reached the cabin, darting under the overhanging roof. I also tripped over something and took a header right into the front door. The door was unlatched and spilled me into the cabin, lying flat on my face.

I was too stunned to say anything at first. I did notice that there was a very large man sitting at a table, looking towards me. Before I found my voice he found his.

"Please, there is no need to genuflect when you meet me, even if I am a magnificent specimen of a man. A simple bow from the waist would suffice."

I scrambled to my feet, spluttering. Genuflect indeed.

"I wasn't genuflecting," I protested. "I tripped on something and fell against the door. The door opened and dumped me on the floor."

"Doors make a habit of opening. You need to be careful around them. Ah, are you here for any reason apart from my door tossing you in?"

"Yes. I was hoping to seek shelter for the night. The forecast was for a sunny day. On both sides of the mountain, too. Ah, I'm Megan."

"And I'm Con. Well it appears as though the forecasters got it wrong. Again. Doesn't matter. You can spend the night here. Seeing that it's dinnertime why don't you make yourself some dinner. I assume you have supplies for it. Don't worry about me. I've just had mine."

"Thank you," I said, nodding politely.

"If you want coffee just turn on the kettle. Milk is in the fridge, coffee in that jar, sugar there. Mugs in that cupboard. If you want tea, bad luck."

"The coffee would be appreciated." He was apparently prepared to be helpful as long as it didn't involve him doing anything.

I turned on the kettle and shortly after I was enjoying my dinner with coffee, an unexpected bonus. At the same time I was looking over my host. My initial impression had been that he was a large man. I was now feeling that my initial impression was underrated. He was huge. Well over six foot and probably two fifty pounds or more. And it wasn't fat. Muscle all the way. His arms were thicker than my legs, for god's sake. If he ever wanted to move house he'd probably just pick it up and take it to where he wanted it.

I suspected that he'd also been looking me over but I knew what he'd see. A girl of about twenty, lucky to be a third his size. Quite shapely but not outstanding. Dark shoulder length hair and brown eyes. Just your average girl, I guess.

I finished my dinner and relaxed with my coffee. I was warm and dry in here while outside the rain had become increasingly heavy and at this altitude probably freezing as well. It was dark outside and I had no idea what time it was and I couldn't be bothered looking at my phone to check. I just sat back and did nothing.

"Finished?" came his growling voice and I nodded. I also took the time to look a little more thoroughly around the room. It was a spacious room with my current end set up as a kitchen while the other end was set up as a living room with couch, chairs and a big TV. There were also a couple of doors that led to a bathroom and bedroom, but I was only guessing at that.

"You'll probably be wanting to go to bed," he observed and I nodded.

"Ah, yes," I admitted. "Where should I sling my sleeping bag?"

"The couch will do. Before you do that you may want to use the facilities. That door."

He indicated the leftmost door. I thanked him and gratefully went inside and used the facilities. Quite a neat little bathroom he had in there. Better than the one I had at home.

"Finished?" he asked when I came out and I nodded.

"Yes, thank you," I said and headed over towards my sleeping bag and the couch.

I didn't make it. I took two steps and he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He took two steps and we were in his bedroom, the door closing behind us courtesy of his kicking it closed. It was a very nice bedroom, thoughtfully decorated, spotlessly clean, and having a king-size bed which must have been hard to bring up the mountain.

For all that he had a nice bedroom I was not impressed. Alright, I was impressed but that was irrelevant. I didn't want to be in his bedroom. Neither did I want to be casually tossed through the air to land on the bed with a bounce. (A really comfortable bed I was willing to bed.)

Ever since he first grabbed me I'd been yelling at him, struggling, and hitting at him with my fist. The yelling he ignored, I don't think he even noticed the struggling, and the hitting probably hurt my fists more than him. As soon as I bounced on the bed I caught myself, turned, and went to dive off the other side of the bed.

What other side? The bed was flush against the wall. He must have a hell of a job making it. With the head of the bed also flush against a wall that left two sides, the right and the bottom, neither of which were any good to me. He was standing at that corner.

"What do you think you're playing at?" I demanded. "I insist you let me go."

"Do you? How strange. As to what I'm playing at I'm not playing at anything. I am however going to do something. Do you want to make a guess as to what that is?"

"I am not sleeping with you," I said very firmly. Show any sign of wavering and he'd be all over me.

"That's fine," he said, smiling. "I have no intention of sleeping either."

"I'll fight you if you try anything," I snapped.

"That's fine by me. It won't have any affect. I will give you fair warning, though. No biting. If you bite I will smack your bottom."

He held up one large hand and I suspected that hand would cover the entire expanse of my bottom. OK. Biting was out. I wasn't going to risk getting spanked by that hand. My bottom was cringing just at the thought of it.

For someone who was bigger than your average bear he was also very fast. His hand lashed out and caught my ankle, drawing me to him. When I was close enough he took off my sneaker and sock, changed feet, and took off the other pair. I was yelling at him and trying to struggle but it's hard to do when you're flat on your back, being help by your foot.

He pulled me towards him, feet first. When he was in reach he undid the catches of my shorts and pulled them down and off. Next time I went hiking I'd be wearing tight jeans no matter what the forecast said. The infuriating part of what was going on was that he was keeping out of reach. I could hit at his hands but whoop-de-doo, what male is going to be discouraged by having his hand slapped. If he wanted to take my top clothes off he was going to have to come within reach.

He seemed to lunge forward on the bed and I was ready to hit, claw, punch, and kick, to my heart's content. Like he hadn't thought of that. He left one leg draped across mine like a heavy log, taking kicking out of the assault. He caught my wrists and held them in one hand. This removed hit, claw, and punch from my defensive routine. I was now left with head butt or bite and his earlier threat loomed large. Would he seriously spank me if I bit him? A serious spanking or a friendly one, I wasn't game to risk it. Comparing his head to mine I opted not to knock myself out by head-butting.

All I had left was a fine line in vituperation which I used loud and long, condemning his ancestry, his descendants, and him. He laughed and congratulated me on my use of the English language. Then he reached down and pulled my panties off, leaving me completely naked.

I tried to cover my more private parts but he wasn't having a bar of it. He moved my hands firmly away from my body, his own hands taking their place. He started stroking me intimately, very intimately. I tried to squirm away from his touch but I had nowhere to go. No matter how much I wriggled his hands were on me, teasing me.

I was rather taken aback when he suddenly released me and stood up.

"Back in a moment," he said. "Don't start without me."

With that he left the room, leaving me staring blankly at the door. That only lasted a moment and then I grabbed my clothes and began to get dressed again. Only started because before I managed to put a single thing on Con was back carrying some things.

"I said not without me, Megan. Be a good girl and lie on this towel."

He flicked a towel onto the bed.

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because you're going to shave and I don't want hair all over the bed."

Logical but it wasn't going to happen.

"No way," I refused.

"Of course I can always hold you down and shave you myself," he suggested and I angrily snatched the shaver from him. I hadn't seen one like this before. It was compact with two circles that I assumed was where the blades were. I nervously ran it across my bush and the hair just vanished. The razor was vibrating slightly and I could feel that vibration deep inside. It certainly carried. As for my bush, a couple of casual passes and it was non-existent.

"Done. Satisfied?"

"Dear Megan, someone should teach you how to shave. Give me the razor and lie still."

He ran the little razor over me. Not just the area I'd covered but all the edges and creases I'd ignored, seeking out every hair on my groin. It was nerve wracking when he went over the sides of my vagina, collecting a few errant hairs. Finished he ran his finger lightly over my groin, nodding in approval.

"That's the way to do it. Why don't you feel the difference?"

I flatly refused. (Maybe I'd check it out later when I was alone. Maybe not. Who was I kidding? Of course I would.)

"Suit yourself," he said, rolling me off the towel. He then dumped the towel and razor off the bed and reached for me. I struggled with him but he wasn't having a bar of it. His leg pinned mine and one of his hands held mine out of the way. Then he started touching me.

He covered my face with what my mother would call butterfly kisses. His mouth would touch me all over, just barely touching before moving on. In the right context it would probably be highly erotic. This just wasn't the right time. While he was doing those silly little kisses he was also stroking my breasts, teasing them and squeezing them. He nipped each of my nipples in turn. It was all highly distractive.

It took me a few moments to realise that those butterfly kisses were now covering my breasts. I squirmed a bit under their assault, not that I could do anything about it. I jerked, arching my back, when the next assault began. Con's hand was suddenly cupping my vagina, lightly squeezing and relaxing. At the same time Con was sucking on my nipple while his fingers were exploring, going places they had no right to go.

There was no way I was putting up with this without protest. I took a deep breath and tried to push Con's head away from my breasts.

"Stop that," I gasped out. "Get your hands away from there."

"Are you sure?" he asked and I nodded frantically.

"Yes I'm sure. Move them."

He lifted his head and removed his hands. I had time for a brief sigh of relief when his head descended again. I couldn't believe this. He'd pushed my legs further apart and was now kissing my vagina. And using tongue while he was doing it. I gave a scream, followed by a couple more. The place where his tongue was probing was ultra-sensitive and I couldn't stand what he was doing. I tried to tell him to stop but it's hard to say anything coherent when you're writhing under a sexual assault. I was totally aroused and I didn't want to be.

He moved off me and off the bed. While I lay there wondering what the hell he made two movements. The first stripped off all his upper clothes, the second the bottom half. Then he was back on the bed, his erection pressing against me. That thing looked huge. I'd compare it to the size of my arm but I suspect my arm would lose the comparison.

I was back into my 'no way, nope, not going to happen' spiel while he lay next to me, smiling and propped up by one arm.

"Let's see shall we," he said.

With that he reached down and took hold of my ankles, lifted them high, and pushed them down around my ears. I was effectively bent double and had an excellent view of my freshly shaved pussy. It was gleaming white and I made an idle mental note to buy one of those razors.

Also gleaming white was his erection. Except for the head. That was a purple colour. If I'd stopped to think about I'd have assumed that it would be the colour of the rest of his skin. It probably was but the only bits I could see were tanned. His erection was certainly not tanned. (How could it be? Men don't normally walk around with their cocks hanging out.)

He pushed my knees a bit further apart, spreading my legs a little more. This naturally caused my lips to part, letting him see exactly where to go. He reached for me, spread my lips even further apart, and eased the tip of his cock into the room he'd provided. All I could do was shiver slightly and watch, wondering how much it would hurt.

I wasn't a virgin but neither was I very experienced. The little experience I did have suggested to me that boys tend to stick it in, jerk around, and finish. If the girl is lucky she may have a climax. I've been lucky a couple of times or I probably would have written off the whole sex thing as a joke. As it is I still have hopes. What I didn't have was any expectation for some monster waving a giant cock to behave any different from the boys I'd known.

I was lying there, watching, wondering why he wasn't driving home. It came as a bit of a shock when I realised that I was feeling a lot more of him inside me. This time, paying attention to what I was watching, I could see that he was pushing home, just very slowly, giving me time to adjust to every little gain he made. And it wasn't hurting at all, although I was starting to feel a little crowded down there.

I continued to lie there, pinned to the bed, and all the time he was pressing home. Bit by bit he was squeezing himself into me and my passage was stretching in all directions as it endeavoured to cope with him. I was thinking about screaming and telling him to stop but I didn't think it would have any impact. I mean, I'd been telling him no and that he had to stop right from the start but I might as well have been talking to a brick wall, which, now I consider it, he resembled.

He gave one last push and the final inch or so sank into me, stretching me just that little bit more. He held still at that point, content to just stick it to me and hold it there apparently. I didn't say or do anything, mainly because I didn't know what to say or do. I did notice that the longer he just stayed still within me the easier it seemed for me to handle him.

"So are you ready for a little action?" Con asked and I was quick to say no. Did he care? Not so much that I could notice.

He pulled back out of me. Not all the way. Not even half. But I could feel his cock dragging against my passage and it sent little shudders up my back. Then he pushed back in, fast, and those little shudders were larger. At the same time I couldn't help but give a little scream when he pressed back home. Not a painful one but a surprised one. I hadn't expected him to feel like that.

That was just the start, of course. He was pulling back and thrusting home, pulling back just a little more each time. I found I couldn't help but give a small scream each time he drove home. On top of that the longer the stroke when he drove in the louder the scream. It wasn't all that long before he was pulling back and returning with gay abandon. Me, I was yelling my head off, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't making demands for him to stop. I had a nasty suspicion that I'd die if he stopped before completing what he'd started.

I don't know how long he kept going but my nerves were totally frazzled before he finished. My thinking had now switched to I'm going to die if he doesn't finish this soon. Then I felt a renewed urgency to his actions, coming in faster, wanting more. It was all too much for me and I climax with a scream, climaxing in a way I never had before. At the same time I knew he was climaxing as well. I could feel the splash of his seed inside me. (Fortunately I was on the pill. He sure wasn't wearing any protection.)

I sagged down onto the bed, completely spent, feeling him doing the same on the other side.

"Feeling better now?" he asked.

"No. That was rape," I insisted.

"Maybe," he acknowledged, "but who said rape can't be fun? Go to sleep."

I was tired enough and the bed was comfortable enough that I did just that. I slept through the night and woke when the sun started shining through the window. I rolled over, wondering if I'd dreamed the previous night but no, there he was beside me, watching me.

"I suppose you're going to want to get dressed and be on your way?" he observed.

I nodded.

"That's what I thought. However I thought that maybe you could do something for me before you go."

"You're kidding. What is it?"

For answer he flicked the covers off us. We were both still naked from last night's encounter, so I immediately blushed and tried to cover myself.

"I've got this problem and I figure you're just the person to solve it. Men tend to call it a morning glory."

He indicated down the bed and when I looked I realised he had an erection. He wanted to fuck me again? I was slightly shocked, although I couldn't understand why.

"There's no way I'm going to let you rape me again," I said quickly, although I had no idea how I'd stop him.

"Please," he said, sounding insulted. "Once was just to get you used to me and let you relax for the night. A second time would be crass."

"I don't understand."

"I showed you what to do. Now is your chance to see how well you learnt your lesson."

He wanted to lie there and let me take advantage of him? Everyman's dream, I suspected.

"You can't expect me to, ah,.." I waved my hand in the general direction of his erection. And why not I thought.