Realization
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FASGADH BOTHY free porn video
I reached Fasgadh Bothy in Glen Noe just as the last light was fading from the sky. The wind was increasing, whipping up the surface of Loch Etive in the distance and sending spindrift pirouetting across the snowy landscape. The temperature was already plummeting. Although Taynuilt village was only a few miles further on beyond the forested shoulder of mighty Ben Cruachan, I opted to stay at Fasgadh for the night.
For those unacquainted with the strange ways of winter hillwalkers in the UK, bothies (singular ‘bothy’, rhyming with 'frothy') were originally accommodation for farm workers or deer stalkers. They’re now repurposed as open shelters, usually in remote locations wherever walkers might have need of something more substantial than a tent.
Most are old cottages and at least several hours walk from a public road. The great attraction of using them is that they're completely free and there aren’t any rules as such, beyond the unofficial Bothy Code which contains common sense and practical advice based on respect for the bothy itself, its users and the surrounding environment. Few bothies have toilet facilities so always remember to pack a trowel for digging.
I pushed open the door of the single storey stone building and shrugged off my rucksack. After removing hood, snow goggles, Buff and gloves, I looked around. Result! I had the place to myself. With bothying you never know who you might be sharing with. There were two very slightly musty smelling rooms, one with a fireplace, a well stocked woodpile and two battered chairs and a smaller room with a single sleeping platform. I knew it was going to be a bitterly cold night, so I dragged my gear through to the smaller room so I could sleep elevated from the bare stone floor. I noticed in passing a dog-eared visitors’ book open on a shelf. It appeared that no-one had spent the night here since the previous summer.
The rest of my evening passed doing mundane tasks like cooking chilli con carne on my stove, getting a roaring fire going to warm the place up, drinking coffee and trying in vain to get a phone signal to call my wife. All by the flickering light of two candles and a headtorch. Since I'd turned fifty a couple of years before, winter hillwalking was now my ‘thing’. Other men my age bought themselves a yacht or a sports car. I tested myself against the harshest conditions the UK’s mountain ranges had to offer.
With my wife Sandra's blessing I'd head north to either Scotland or Cumbria each year for a week of hillwalking and scrambling in the depths of winter. Carrying all the necessary extra kit that winter demanded, like ice axe, crampons, first aid kit, thermal this and thermal that, helped keep me fit. Learning to navigate when every recognisable path had been obliterated by snow and ice, how to avoid cornices and black ice and basic first aid kept my brain active.
I can honestly say I don't carry a single ounce of fat and still have a vague six-pack. On the downside I look like a bald Robin Williams and I spend so much time outdoors my skin looks like old leather. But I never feel as alive as I do in the mountains. They're my d**g, my addiction, my escape.
By ten PM that evening, my eyelids were drooping. I stripped down to my thermals and Bridgedale socks and went to bed.
. . .
The bothy door slamming back against the inside wall brought me to my senses with a start. I unzipped my sleeping bag and padded across to the bedroom doorway. The wind?
23:45. I'd been asleep for less than two hours.
Two figures stood just inside the main door to the bothy. One struggling to shut the door against the gale, the other propping a pair of ice axes out of the way against the wall.
They stamped their feet on the threshold to shake excess snow from their boots and quickly doffed their rucksacks. One clad in black like some sort of foul weather ninja, the other in feminine pinks and purples. Although completely covered from head to foot in layers of weatherproof clothing, I could guess from their comparative heights, builds and dress sense that one was a man, the other obviously a woman.
“Good evening,” I said awkwardly. Now that they were here, there was nothing I could do about it, so I thought I might as well be civil. After all they had as much right to stay in the bothy as I did.
Both of them spun around to face me at the sound of my voice, evidently startled, though they should've guessed from the fire that the place was already occupied. The man struggled for a few seconds to pull back the hood of his jacket with gloved hands, then finally relented and decided to remove the gloves first. Off came the hood, followed by tinted snow googles. Then finally he hooked a finger into the Buff concealing the lower half of his face and tugged it down, “Evening. Sorry, we thought we had the place to ourselves.”
He looked about twenty five with short sandy coloured hair - that was currently sticking out all over the place after wearing the hood and goggles - and piercing blue eyes. He reminded me of the Polish weatherman my wife fancied - Tomasz Schafernaker or something. Handsome in a disheveled, boyish sort of way. He took a step towards me, extending a hand, “Calvin Wainwright. Call me Cal.”
I realised that I was probably old enough to be his father. I shook hands, “Wainwright. Really? A hillwalker called Wainwright?”
He grinned and nodded.
“Sorry, I'm forgetting my manners, I'm Steve. Steve Calton.”
“Good to meet you Steve.”
The woman too had by now pulled off her own hood and goggles and was dragging her clawed hands roughly through her long blonde hair to tidy it. She grinned at me with big greenish eyes that appeared to glow in the firelight, “Laura,” she said simply, by way of an introduction. She reminded me of the actress Charlotte Salt, only much shorter. Petite in fact - about five foot nothing - and a few years younger. Probably mid twenties I guessed.
They stripped off their damp jackets and gaiters and d****d them carefully over the two chairs away from the fire.
“Brr, it's bloody cold out there,” muttered Cal, holding his hands out to the fire.
“Yeah,” I answered, “this wasn't supposed to blow in until much later tonight. I'd been hoping to make it into Taynuilt.”
Laura unzipped her purple softshell, “Never believe what the forecasters tell you.”
“Which way have you come?” I asked.
“Ballachulish via Ben Starav,” replied Cal, “I think we've been seeing your headtorch way off in the distance for the last couple of hours. We should've guessed you'd be heading here. But Laura here likes to take her time when it's icy.”
Laura playfully elbowed him in the ribs, “I'd rather take my time than break my neck you twat.”
I grinned. With the bickering and insults, this was just like being back home with Sandra, “So are you two husband and wife?”
Cal slipped an arm around Laura's shoulders and much to her annoyance pulled her close, “Sure are. Six months tomorrow.”
“Congratulations. Look, shall I put some coffee on? We can sit and shoot the breeze for a while.”
I saw Laura gently nudge Cal and give him a meaningful look. Cal looked from her to me, “Wh … oh no, that's okay. Once we've got our sleeping gear unpacked I think we'll turn in. It's been a long day, we're knackered.”
“You’re not wrong there. Okay. I uh … bagsied the bed if you don't mind. But there's more space in here to spread out. Plus you've got the fire. I've only just put some fresh logs on.”
“That's okay Steve. You were here first. I'm just sorry we've intruded on your peace and quiet,” Cal sat on the floor and started unlacing his boots. Pricey four season Salomons.
“Well goodnight then. Sleep tight,” I stepped backwards into the bedroom to leave them to it.
“Night,” Laura smiled at me as she opened the lid of her purple rucksack, “see you in the morning.”
I quietly closed the bedroom door and crawled back into my sleeping bag. Newlyweds. I could barely remember being a newlywed. I'd been with Sandra for longer than either of these two had been alive.
My jaw cracked as I let out an expansive yawn. I was only just realising how tired I was. The miles I'd covered that day would certainly tire out most people, but with the addition of snow and ice to contend with, and having to concentrate on navigation when the paths were invisible and keeping an eye on the weather meant that I was mentally exhausted too.
Though I could still hear their hushed murmurings as Cal and Laura readied themselves for bed next door, I yanked off my constricting thermal top, zipped myself in and was probably sound asleep less than a couple of minutes later …
. . .
Something woke me. But was it something real or had I dreamt it?
A sound.
It was still dark, though I could faintly see a thin line of flickering orange around the door so the fire was still lit in the main room. The wind was still howling outside, blasting tiny pellets of ice noisily against the bothy’s corrugated roof. I concentrated, straining to work out just what I'd heard. Wondering if I'd hear it again.
There. A quiet gasp. Like a sharp intake of breath …
“Aah …”
Then again a few seconds later. Followed by what sounded like Laura's whispered voice, “Oh god …”
The unmistakable sounds of two people having sex.
I realised my cock was already hard, straining against the material of my Helly Hansen thermals and leaving a wet patch. To make myself more comfortable (and to avoid an unsightly stain), I tugged the bottoms down over my hips. My erection immediately sprang up and slapped onto my belly, oozing. Down boy! I thought - I might be in my fifties but I certainly don't have any need to be secretly ordering Viagra online just yet.
I'd heard strangers fucking many times of course. Usually through the thin walls of various hotel rooms. I had always found it an immense turn on and always considered it a definite plus if the hotel had 'nighttime entertainment’ (a crying shame you couldn't mention that sort of thing in your Trip Advisor reviews though - 'FIVE STARS: Had a great stay, comfortable room, the couple in the next room were at it all night long’ …).
I always enjoyed hearing the drunken giggles as the couple next door came in late from a pub or club. The kissing, the moans and gasps of some faceless woman I was never likely to meet being pleasured, the whispered urgings of 'fuck me’ or 'harder, harder’ … then the headboard and bedframe creaking as the bloke worked himself up to a groaning climax.
If Sandra was with me, she usually slept through it, but I would be lying awake stroking my cock, ear pressed against the adjoining wall, trying to commit every sound, every murmur and sigh to memory.
A shadow moved on the other side of the door, eclipsing the orange light for a moment. Then again. Something moving rythmically to and fro between the bedroom door and the bothy’s fireplace.
“Ohh Cal …”
As quietly as I could, I unzipped the sleeping bag and climbed off the bed, sleeping platform, whatever you want to call it. I slipped my damp thermal bottoms and my socks completely off, enjoying the feeling of the chill air cooling the wet tip of my cock. The foreskin had peeled back of its own accord as I became painfully hard.
My erection bobbed from side to side in front of me as I tiptoed across the room to the door and slowly, oh so very slowly lifted the latch …
“Uhh …”
I realised how this was going to look, walking in a young married couple, naked, with a raging stiffy - particularly if they were just sitting there cross-legged on the floor innocently playing cards or Top Trumps because they had trouble sleeping.
But they weren't playing cards …
I eased the door open just a couple of inches. Cal and Laura had pushed their inflatable sleeping mats together in the middle of the bare stone floor. Cal appeared to be lying diagonally across them on his back, half covered by his sleeping bag while Laura sat astride him, gently rocking herself to and fro.
“Mmm, you feel so good inside me …”
As the only light came from the glowing embers in the fireplace I couldn't really make out details at first. It took more than a minute for my eyes to adjust. Laura's slim, nubile body was only visible in silhouette. Her tousled hair hung in a curtain down over her face, her nipples stood proud and deliciously erect against the material of her sports bra, the soft dimples on her lower back caught the orange firelight as she flexed her pelvis. Their shadows danced and undulated across the walls and ceiling …
Laura hooked her fingers into the shoulder straps of her bra and wriggled it off over her head, letting her small but perfectly formed breasts swing free. I watched as she leant forward and kissed her husband, as his hands reached around her and cupped her buttocks. I could only imagine how his fingertips might be sliding momentarily into the cleft between, coaxing her to new heights.
“Why are you so fucking horny?” whispered Cal.
“Uhh … because there's ... someone sleeping in the next room and he might be awake listening to us right now. Wanking his cock and getting off on what we're doing.”
“He's old enough to be your dad though,” replied Cal.
“He's still pretty fit though. He looked quite muscly …”
“I'm muscly.”
“Shut up and suck my nipples.”
I listened and watched as Cal did as he was told and worshipped his wife's pert little breasts with his mouth, wet sucking sounds punctuated by Laura's soft moans of ecstacy. She arched her back, impaling herself on him oh so slowly, drawing all of him in, wanting their love-making to last.
My tiredness had evaporated and I realised that I would gladly stay up all night watching these two fucking … but then my horniness got the better of me. I lifted my hand to wank my cock just a little too quickly and accidentally rapped my knuckles loudly against the door with a resounding thump.
Laura’s head whipped around to stare at me as, with a long, squealing creak, the door swung open revealing me standing there in the light of the dying fire - stark bollock naked with a big, dripping hard-on pointed directly at her (I noticed that her eyes lingered there for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary). She folded her arms protectively over her naked breasts.
“Sorry,” I said lamely, “I thought I heard a noise.”
“And it gave you a fucking hard-on?” asked Cal, pushing himself up onto one elbow.
“I was on my way out to take a leak.”
“Naked? In a fucking blizzard?”
I couldn't talk my way out of that one. For a few seconds there was an awkward silence. Laura, with her husband's cock still partially inside her glared at me accusingly while Cal raised an eyebrow waiting for an explanation. I'd be lucky to get out of this one without a punch. I self-consciously covered my crown jewels as best I could with my hands.
“I heard you,” I confessed, “and …”
“Thought you'd watch us ... you fucking pervert,” shouted Laura. Her high voice reverberated off the bare stone walls. She shifted herself off Cal and wrapped a sleeping bag around her nakedness. His hard cock lay shining with Laura's wetness on his bare thigh.
“Easy Laura,” soothed Cal, “Steve was here first after all. The Bothy Code says ‘respect other users’ …”
“What? By perving on them?”
Cal began to speak, as if a thought had just occurred to him, “Do you ... remember your fantasy you once told me about?”
Laura huffed. Fantasy? This was interesting. She scowled at him,”What?”
“The one about a threesome,” he added, “… with two men at once?”
Well this was interesting. But I wondered if it was actually Laura's fantasy or if it was Cal's and he had put the idea into her head. A young girl, head over heels in love could probably be extremely susceptible to suggestion …
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “apologies for eavesdropping but I distinctly heard you say you're horny 'because there's someone sleeping in the next room and he might be awake listening to us right now ... getting off on what we're doing’ - but now you're having a go because you caught me watching you?”
Laura looked a little embarrassed, “It's true. I … sometimes like to be watched, and … have people listen. It turns me on. I get a little ... loud, on purpose when we stay in hotels.”
Cal nodded, “I had noticed.”
“The … other thing. The fantasy,” she looked down, unable to make eye contact with either of us now, “it's something I've always dreamt about but I've never really considering … doing it.”
Cal stroked her shoulder, “It's okay babe. It's entirely up to you, but … now's as good a time as any.”
He sounded a little too eager to let his wife fuck another man. Good looking guy that he was, he struck me as a bit of a creep.
“Look,” I said, “I am truly sorry. Can we forget all this ever happened? I'll go back to bed and leave you to it.”
“Wait!” called Laura as I turned to leave.
I was starting to get cold and considered throwing a few more logs on the fire. But I did as the lady asked and waited. She hugged herself, shivering as she thought long and hard, staring into the fire. Considering if what she'd told her husband she wanted and what she herself wanted were one and the same.
“I won't do anything I don't want to do,” she said, without turning.
Myself and Cal agreed.
“And … if I want you to stop, you will … right?”
“Of course,” I answered. Cal nodded assent, though Laura was looking away from him.
“And … if there's something I want either of you to do, you will, yes?”
“Sure,” I said. Cal nodded again.
Laura looked at her husband, “Are you happy with this Cal? You want to see me with another man?
“Only if it's what you want babe.”
She turned to me, “I notice you're married.”
I held up my left hand, the dying firelight glinting on the gold band. My most valuable possession. Not for the monetary value, but for what it represented, “Whenever I come up here to the north, my wife - Sandra, just tells me to enjoy myself. She never says how. Being with you doesn't mean I don't love her anymore. She's the kindest, sexiest lady in the world. But if my conscience can live with it, then so can she.”
Laura studied me for a long time, looking deep into my eyes in the semi-darkness. Then finally she lowered her arms from her breasts, uncovering her nakedness, “Come here and lie down.”
Before I did as she asked, I stoked the fire and threw on a few more logs …
. . .
I went to lie down but Laura was obviously so worked up by her husband's attentions that she couldn't wait any longer. She pushed me back onto the sleeping mats and straddled my legs. She held my face in her tiny hands and pushed her tongue between my lips.
To be honest it felt really weird. Not the kiss itself from the warm and willing young woman lying on top of me, with her nipples brushing enticingly against my chest, but the fact that her husband was kneeling just a few feet away watching us. His cock pulsing and still shining and slick from Laura's secretions.
I kissed her back. Our tongues touched, tasted, entwined. She tasted of fresh, minty toothpaste. I felt her little teeth nip at my bottom lip and she gasped into my open mouth as my hands slid up her ribcage and the backs of my knuckles brushed the sides of her breasts.
“Don't tease me,” she breathed.
I circled her areolae gently with my fingertips before pinching her nipples. She arched her back in delight, pressing her breasts against my hands and her groin against my stomach.
Cal had shuffled closer and was wanking himself with long, lazy strokes, his expression unreadable as my rough hands roamed over his young wife's body. Then Laura wriggled backwards and suddenly grasped my cock, pointing it upwards. My breath exploded through my clenched teeth as she slid herself down on me, burying my cock completely up inside her tight, wet vagina. If I'd died right then, I would've died a happy man.
“How does he feel babe?” asked Cal. Laura reached out and grasped hold of his cock, forcing him to edge even closer.
“Nice. He's filling me right up.”
I clutched Laura's hips as she rode me. A few teasingly slow strokes followed by a burst of bouncing speed where each time I pushed upwards, straining to get further inside the warm, silky glove enveloping me. Laura leaned forward a little and took Cal's shining cock in her mouth, taking in as much of him as she could, sucking hard. I'd never made a habit of studying other men's tackle before but had to admit that Cal had a very impressive cock. Smooth looking with just one or two big veins meandering along the slightly upward curve of its length. His foreskin had peeled back from the shining marbled tip as it swelled. Strings of Laura's saliva dripped onto my shoulder as she greedily slurped and licked away at his engorged glans.
Then she kissed me. I was taken so utterly by surprise as Laura pushed her wet tongue into my mouth, a salty kiss that tasted of another man's cock. His cock. Laura wanted to do something outrageously erotic and give me no choice but to take part. I hungrily kissed her back and tried not to think too much about what had made her lips taste so tangy.
I simply grabbed her hips, pushing myself up inside her as deeply as I could Laura gasped and wriggled above me, enjoying the sensations and delicious friction between our sweating bodies. She guided Cal forward and pushed his bloated cock against my chest, brushing the slimy purple head over my nipple. I let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure.
Continuing to ride me, Laura wanked Cal against my skin. He closed his eyes, evidently enjoying the sensation of the hard little nub of my nipple and curling chest hairs tickling the sensitive underside of his glans.
“Do it yourself,” Laura whispered, taking her hand away. For a second Cal looked at her blankly, then began thrusting himself against me, coating my chest as his cock oozed less than six inches from my face. This was beyond anything I had ever done, but it felt good.
Very good. So good it scared me.
I felt Cal's heavy balls slapping against my ribcage as he shifted position, angling himself so his cock pointed up at my throat. Barely inches from my face, so close now that I could smell him. The manly muskiness of him. Laura looked down at me and grinned, “That looks so fucking hot I think it's got me even wetter.”
I couldn't help myself. I inhaled deeply through my nose. Laura and Cal kissed as he continued fucking my chest. He certainly didn't seem to have any qualms about tasting himself on his wife's breath.
Then all at once the engorged purple tip of Cal's cock nudged my stubbly chin. He jolted with the pleasure of feeling a hundred tiny pinpricks tickling his knob all at once even as I recoiled. Part of me felt repulsed at having another man's penis this close to my face. Part of me was fascinated as I watched a pearl of fluid ooze from its tiny slit and dribble onto my chest.
And another part of me, a secret part that I hadn't realised was there before wanted to poke out my tongue as far as I could and taste him. I'd wondered occasionally what it would be like to suck another man but had never made a conscious effort to find out. I was straight as an arrow. Heterosexual. Married to a lovely woman with whom I still had amazing sex.
“Go on,” coaxed Laura, as if reading my mind, “give him a little lick. I do all the time.”
Yeah, but you're a girl, I thought. It's normal for you.
I shook my head. I'd need a little more convincing. Once that line was crossed it couldn't be uncrossed. Laura stopped her jiggling and writhing and regarded the tableau in front of her, staring with her big green eyes and swaying dreamily from side to side now, with me still deep inside her, massaging the silky walls of her vagina. Her husband of six months was kneeling by the shoulders of a middle-aged man they'd only just met, fucking his slimy cock against his chest hair.
Again, I had to admit it was a very impressive cock. Seven or eight inches, curved upward slightly, thick with pulsing veins and a shining purple glans.
“Go on, I've never seen a man go down on another man,” Laura urged. Her voice carried an eager little girl quality, as if daring us to go further. Cal pushed his cock against my chin. I felt it's spongy tip rub against the hairs making the same scratchy sound my fingers made when I stroked my bristles.
Laura swayed her hips, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my loins, “Just a little lick?”
Cal inched himself closer until his cock was beside my mouth. I could feel the heat from his skin as I watched it swell, actually see the veins pulse along its length. His glans brushed the corner of my mouth.
Instantly I felt my own cock twitch inside Laura. I felt ashamed of my reaction, embarrassed for myself. Against everything I'd ever believed in, I was getting turned on.
Cal pushed the slippery head of his cock across my lips. I felt its wet heat and silky smoothness, and wondered if either of them would notice if I poked out just the tip of my tongue and licked him. Just the tiniest taste of him. Of course they would.
“Open your mouth,” said Laura softly, a sensual whisper, “suck him.”
Cal continued to smear his pre-cum across my lips like some x-rated lip balm.
“Suck him Steve. Suck my husband's cock …”
I felt Cal push against my lips, demanding entrance. He'd let me fuck his pretty young wife so I realised it was the least I could do. Besides, I wanted to. Ohmygod, I wanted to. If this made me gay I didn't care. I opened my mouth and the slick purple head of Cal's beautiful penis slipped inside.
I wrapped my lips around him and explored his knob with my tongue, savouring the salty taste and stickiness of him as he began to slowly fuck my face.
“Oh my fucking god, that is so sexy,” purred Laura. Now that I'd done as she'd asked, she carried on where she'd left off, gyrating her hips and squeezing me with her vaginal muscles, “I'm going to cum …”
I learned quickly that if I relaxed my jaw I could take more of Cal's cock in my mouth. I licked along his hot length, my tongue feeling the pulse of blood in the prominent veins. In those few minutes I no longer felt like a man or even a woman but some genderless thing whose only purpose was to extract every possible modicum of pleasure from sex. Fuck my mouth, I thought. Cum in my mouth while your wife watches us.
My hands left his wife's hips and instead clutched Cal. One hand on his tight ass, pulling him into me, urging him to thrust deeper into my mouth; the other fondling his pendulous balls.
I caressed the engorged stem of Cal's cock with my lips and swirled my tongue over the glistening head while my hands gently fondled the bottom of his shaft, keeping his foreskin pulled back. Cal jerked his hips upwards towards my face, thrusting himself deep into my mouth and moaning. I pushed my hand down between his legs and stroked up and down his crease, fondling the secret spot behind his testicles where the skin was warm and smooth and sensitive, going as far as caressing the taut rim of his backside. That was too much for him. I sucked him in hard as he started to cum.
With a wordless grunt, Cal's hands went to the back of my bald head, clutching me desperately as his hot spunk flooded my mouth. Jet after jet splashed the back of my throat and tongue until I gagged, until I felt like I was drowning on warm, watery glue. I opened my mouth, gasping for air, letting his cock slip out and still his ejaculating continued.
Strings of it fountained across my face in white blobs and festoons, stinging my eyes. I laughed out loud as warm semen ran down my cheeks. In that moment I felt somehow liberated.
Laura screamed as she orgasmed simultaneously, grinding herself down on me so hard I felt the spongy entrance of her cervix kiss the tip of my cock.
“Swallow it,” cried Laura. I did as she asked, gulping down as much of the bitter fluid as I could, feeling it slide down my throat. I had a mental image of badly mixed wallpaper paste, warm and lumpy.
Then Laura quickly nudged Cal impatiently out of the way and leant forward to kiss me, her tongue pushing urgently into my mouth. She wanted to taste him. I hungrily kissed her back as beside us, Cal squeezed out the last few drops, emptying his twitching bollocks onto our joined faces.
“Wow,” said Cal, panting from the exertion.
“You can say that again. That wasn't quite the threesome I was expecting,” breathed Laura. She lay beside me for a few minutes, one smooth thigh d****d over mine until she'd finally got her breath back.
“Hey, you haven't cum yet,” said Laura, pushing sweat soaked hair from her face.
“One of you could do the honours,” I suggested. Then added quietly, “I don't mind which one.”
“I know,” said Laura, “since you've already given Cal a blowjob, why don't you go the whole way?”
Cal and I looked at each other blankly.
“Why don't you fuck him?”
“I haven't done that since I was at uni, babe,” Cal protested.
So Cal was actually bisexual and this wasn't his first time.
“Go on,” she said, “assume the position.”
“Um, if it's all the same to you,” I said to Laura, “I'd rather you did.”
She tutted and huffed at me, but nevertheless got onto her hands and knees with her gorgeous round ass up in the air.
Laura purred with appreciation as I pushed myself into her back passage and fucked her hard. We continued for what seemed like hours. Cal went down on me and licked me clean, minutes after I'd shot my load deep inside his wife's ass.
For those unacquainted with the strange ways of winter hillwalkers in the UK, bothies (singular ‘bothy’, rhyming with 'frothy') were originally accommodation for farm workers or deer stalkers. They’re now repurposed as open shelters, usually in remote locations wherever walkers might have need of something more substantial than a tent.
Most are old cottages and at least several hours walk from a public road. The great attraction of using them is that they're completely free and there aren’t any rules as such, beyond the unofficial Bothy Code which contains common sense and practical advice based on respect for the bothy itself, its users and the surrounding environment. Few bothies have toilet facilities so always remember to pack a trowel for digging.
I pushed open the door of the single storey stone building and shrugged off my rucksack. After removing hood, snow goggles, Buff and gloves, I looked around. Result! I had the place to myself. With bothying you never know who you might be sharing with. There were two very slightly musty smelling rooms, one with a fireplace, a well stocked woodpile and two battered chairs and a smaller room with a single sleeping platform. I knew it was going to be a bitterly cold night, so I dragged my gear through to the smaller room so I could sleep elevated from the bare stone floor. I noticed in passing a dog-eared visitors’ book open on a shelf. It appeared that no-one had spent the night here since the previous summer.
The rest of my evening passed doing mundane tasks like cooking chilli con carne on my stove, getting a roaring fire going to warm the place up, drinking coffee and trying in vain to get a phone signal to call my wife. All by the flickering light of two candles and a headtorch. Since I'd turned fifty a couple of years before, winter hillwalking was now my ‘thing’. Other men my age bought themselves a yacht or a sports car. I tested myself against the harshest conditions the UK’s mountain ranges had to offer.
With my wife Sandra's blessing I'd head north to either Scotland or Cumbria each year for a week of hillwalking and scrambling in the depths of winter. Carrying all the necessary extra kit that winter demanded, like ice axe, crampons, first aid kit, thermal this and thermal that, helped keep me fit. Learning to navigate when every recognisable path had been obliterated by snow and ice, how to avoid cornices and black ice and basic first aid kept my brain active.
I can honestly say I don't carry a single ounce of fat and still have a vague six-pack. On the downside I look like a bald Robin Williams and I spend so much time outdoors my skin looks like old leather. But I never feel as alive as I do in the mountains. They're my d**g, my addiction, my escape.
By ten PM that evening, my eyelids were drooping. I stripped down to my thermals and Bridgedale socks and went to bed.
. . .
The bothy door slamming back against the inside wall brought me to my senses with a start. I unzipped my sleeping bag and padded across to the bedroom doorway. The wind?
23:45. I'd been asleep for less than two hours.
Two figures stood just inside the main door to the bothy. One struggling to shut the door against the gale, the other propping a pair of ice axes out of the way against the wall.
They stamped their feet on the threshold to shake excess snow from their boots and quickly doffed their rucksacks. One clad in black like some sort of foul weather ninja, the other in feminine pinks and purples. Although completely covered from head to foot in layers of weatherproof clothing, I could guess from their comparative heights, builds and dress sense that one was a man, the other obviously a woman.
“Good evening,” I said awkwardly. Now that they were here, there was nothing I could do about it, so I thought I might as well be civil. After all they had as much right to stay in the bothy as I did.
Both of them spun around to face me at the sound of my voice, evidently startled, though they should've guessed from the fire that the place was already occupied. The man struggled for a few seconds to pull back the hood of his jacket with gloved hands, then finally relented and decided to remove the gloves first. Off came the hood, followed by tinted snow googles. Then finally he hooked a finger into the Buff concealing the lower half of his face and tugged it down, “Evening. Sorry, we thought we had the place to ourselves.”
He looked about twenty five with short sandy coloured hair - that was currently sticking out all over the place after wearing the hood and goggles - and piercing blue eyes. He reminded me of the Polish weatherman my wife fancied - Tomasz Schafernaker or something. Handsome in a disheveled, boyish sort of way. He took a step towards me, extending a hand, “Calvin Wainwright. Call me Cal.”
I realised that I was probably old enough to be his father. I shook hands, “Wainwright. Really? A hillwalker called Wainwright?”
He grinned and nodded.
“Sorry, I'm forgetting my manners, I'm Steve. Steve Calton.”
“Good to meet you Steve.”
The woman too had by now pulled off her own hood and goggles and was dragging her clawed hands roughly through her long blonde hair to tidy it. She grinned at me with big greenish eyes that appeared to glow in the firelight, “Laura,” she said simply, by way of an introduction. She reminded me of the actress Charlotte Salt, only much shorter. Petite in fact - about five foot nothing - and a few years younger. Probably mid twenties I guessed.
They stripped off their damp jackets and gaiters and d****d them carefully over the two chairs away from the fire.
“Brr, it's bloody cold out there,” muttered Cal, holding his hands out to the fire.
“Yeah,” I answered, “this wasn't supposed to blow in until much later tonight. I'd been hoping to make it into Taynuilt.”
Laura unzipped her purple softshell, “Never believe what the forecasters tell you.”
“Which way have you come?” I asked.
“Ballachulish via Ben Starav,” replied Cal, “I think we've been seeing your headtorch way off in the distance for the last couple of hours. We should've guessed you'd be heading here. But Laura here likes to take her time when it's icy.”
Laura playfully elbowed him in the ribs, “I'd rather take my time than break my neck you twat.”
I grinned. With the bickering and insults, this was just like being back home with Sandra, “So are you two husband and wife?”
Cal slipped an arm around Laura's shoulders and much to her annoyance pulled her close, “Sure are. Six months tomorrow.”
“Congratulations. Look, shall I put some coffee on? We can sit and shoot the breeze for a while.”
I saw Laura gently nudge Cal and give him a meaningful look. Cal looked from her to me, “Wh … oh no, that's okay. Once we've got our sleeping gear unpacked I think we'll turn in. It's been a long day, we're knackered.”
“You’re not wrong there. Okay. I uh … bagsied the bed if you don't mind. But there's more space in here to spread out. Plus you've got the fire. I've only just put some fresh logs on.”
“That's okay Steve. You were here first. I'm just sorry we've intruded on your peace and quiet,” Cal sat on the floor and started unlacing his boots. Pricey four season Salomons.
“Well goodnight then. Sleep tight,” I stepped backwards into the bedroom to leave them to it.
“Night,” Laura smiled at me as she opened the lid of her purple rucksack, “see you in the morning.”
I quietly closed the bedroom door and crawled back into my sleeping bag. Newlyweds. I could barely remember being a newlywed. I'd been with Sandra for longer than either of these two had been alive.
My jaw cracked as I let out an expansive yawn. I was only just realising how tired I was. The miles I'd covered that day would certainly tire out most people, but with the addition of snow and ice to contend with, and having to concentrate on navigation when the paths were invisible and keeping an eye on the weather meant that I was mentally exhausted too.
Though I could still hear their hushed murmurings as Cal and Laura readied themselves for bed next door, I yanked off my constricting thermal top, zipped myself in and was probably sound asleep less than a couple of minutes later …
. . .
Something woke me. But was it something real or had I dreamt it?
A sound.
It was still dark, though I could faintly see a thin line of flickering orange around the door so the fire was still lit in the main room. The wind was still howling outside, blasting tiny pellets of ice noisily against the bothy’s corrugated roof. I concentrated, straining to work out just what I'd heard. Wondering if I'd hear it again.
There. A quiet gasp. Like a sharp intake of breath …
“Aah …”
Then again a few seconds later. Followed by what sounded like Laura's whispered voice, “Oh god …”
The unmistakable sounds of two people having sex.
I realised my cock was already hard, straining against the material of my Helly Hansen thermals and leaving a wet patch. To make myself more comfortable (and to avoid an unsightly stain), I tugged the bottoms down over my hips. My erection immediately sprang up and slapped onto my belly, oozing. Down boy! I thought - I might be in my fifties but I certainly don't have any need to be secretly ordering Viagra online just yet.
I'd heard strangers fucking many times of course. Usually through the thin walls of various hotel rooms. I had always found it an immense turn on and always considered it a definite plus if the hotel had 'nighttime entertainment’ (a crying shame you couldn't mention that sort of thing in your Trip Advisor reviews though - 'FIVE STARS: Had a great stay, comfortable room, the couple in the next room were at it all night long’ …).
I always enjoyed hearing the drunken giggles as the couple next door came in late from a pub or club. The kissing, the moans and gasps of some faceless woman I was never likely to meet being pleasured, the whispered urgings of 'fuck me’ or 'harder, harder’ … then the headboard and bedframe creaking as the bloke worked himself up to a groaning climax.
If Sandra was with me, she usually slept through it, but I would be lying awake stroking my cock, ear pressed against the adjoining wall, trying to commit every sound, every murmur and sigh to memory.
A shadow moved on the other side of the door, eclipsing the orange light for a moment. Then again. Something moving rythmically to and fro between the bedroom door and the bothy’s fireplace.
“Ohh Cal …”
As quietly as I could, I unzipped the sleeping bag and climbed off the bed, sleeping platform, whatever you want to call it. I slipped my damp thermal bottoms and my socks completely off, enjoying the feeling of the chill air cooling the wet tip of my cock. The foreskin had peeled back of its own accord as I became painfully hard.
My erection bobbed from side to side in front of me as I tiptoed across the room to the door and slowly, oh so very slowly lifted the latch …
“Uhh …”
I realised how this was going to look, walking in a young married couple, naked, with a raging stiffy - particularly if they were just sitting there cross-legged on the floor innocently playing cards or Top Trumps because they had trouble sleeping.
But they weren't playing cards …
I eased the door open just a couple of inches. Cal and Laura had pushed their inflatable sleeping mats together in the middle of the bare stone floor. Cal appeared to be lying diagonally across them on his back, half covered by his sleeping bag while Laura sat astride him, gently rocking herself to and fro.
“Mmm, you feel so good inside me …”
As the only light came from the glowing embers in the fireplace I couldn't really make out details at first. It took more than a minute for my eyes to adjust. Laura's slim, nubile body was only visible in silhouette. Her tousled hair hung in a curtain down over her face, her nipples stood proud and deliciously erect against the material of her sports bra, the soft dimples on her lower back caught the orange firelight as she flexed her pelvis. Their shadows danced and undulated across the walls and ceiling …
Laura hooked her fingers into the shoulder straps of her bra and wriggled it off over her head, letting her small but perfectly formed breasts swing free. I watched as she leant forward and kissed her husband, as his hands reached around her and cupped her buttocks. I could only imagine how his fingertips might be sliding momentarily into the cleft between, coaxing her to new heights.
“Why are you so fucking horny?” whispered Cal.
“Uhh … because there's ... someone sleeping in the next room and he might be awake listening to us right now. Wanking his cock and getting off on what we're doing.”
“He's old enough to be your dad though,” replied Cal.
“He's still pretty fit though. He looked quite muscly …”
“I'm muscly.”
“Shut up and suck my nipples.”
I listened and watched as Cal did as he was told and worshipped his wife's pert little breasts with his mouth, wet sucking sounds punctuated by Laura's soft moans of ecstacy. She arched her back, impaling herself on him oh so slowly, drawing all of him in, wanting their love-making to last.
My tiredness had evaporated and I realised that I would gladly stay up all night watching these two fucking … but then my horniness got the better of me. I lifted my hand to wank my cock just a little too quickly and accidentally rapped my knuckles loudly against the door with a resounding thump.
Laura’s head whipped around to stare at me as, with a long, squealing creak, the door swung open revealing me standing there in the light of the dying fire - stark bollock naked with a big, dripping hard-on pointed directly at her (I noticed that her eyes lingered there for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary). She folded her arms protectively over her naked breasts.
“Sorry,” I said lamely, “I thought I heard a noise.”
“And it gave you a fucking hard-on?” asked Cal, pushing himself up onto one elbow.
“I was on my way out to take a leak.”
“Naked? In a fucking blizzard?”
I couldn't talk my way out of that one. For a few seconds there was an awkward silence. Laura, with her husband's cock still partially inside her glared at me accusingly while Cal raised an eyebrow waiting for an explanation. I'd be lucky to get out of this one without a punch. I self-consciously covered my crown jewels as best I could with my hands.
“I heard you,” I confessed, “and …”
“Thought you'd watch us ... you fucking pervert,” shouted Laura. Her high voice reverberated off the bare stone walls. She shifted herself off Cal and wrapped a sleeping bag around her nakedness. His hard cock lay shining with Laura's wetness on his bare thigh.
“Easy Laura,” soothed Cal, “Steve was here first after all. The Bothy Code says ‘respect other users’ …”
“What? By perving on them?”
Cal began to speak, as if a thought had just occurred to him, “Do you ... remember your fantasy you once told me about?”
Laura huffed. Fantasy? This was interesting. She scowled at him,”What?”
“The one about a threesome,” he added, “… with two men at once?”
Well this was interesting. But I wondered if it was actually Laura's fantasy or if it was Cal's and he had put the idea into her head. A young girl, head over heels in love could probably be extremely susceptible to suggestion …
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “apologies for eavesdropping but I distinctly heard you say you're horny 'because there's someone sleeping in the next room and he might be awake listening to us right now ... getting off on what we're doing’ - but now you're having a go because you caught me watching you?”
Laura looked a little embarrassed, “It's true. I … sometimes like to be watched, and … have people listen. It turns me on. I get a little ... loud, on purpose when we stay in hotels.”
Cal nodded, “I had noticed.”
“The … other thing. The fantasy,” she looked down, unable to make eye contact with either of us now, “it's something I've always dreamt about but I've never really considering … doing it.”
Cal stroked her shoulder, “It's okay babe. It's entirely up to you, but … now's as good a time as any.”
He sounded a little too eager to let his wife fuck another man. Good looking guy that he was, he struck me as a bit of a creep.
“Look,” I said, “I am truly sorry. Can we forget all this ever happened? I'll go back to bed and leave you to it.”
“Wait!” called Laura as I turned to leave.
I was starting to get cold and considered throwing a few more logs on the fire. But I did as the lady asked and waited. She hugged herself, shivering as she thought long and hard, staring into the fire. Considering if what she'd told her husband she wanted and what she herself wanted were one and the same.
“I won't do anything I don't want to do,” she said, without turning.
Myself and Cal agreed.
“And … if I want you to stop, you will … right?”
“Of course,” I answered. Cal nodded assent, though Laura was looking away from him.
“And … if there's something I want either of you to do, you will, yes?”
“Sure,” I said. Cal nodded again.
Laura looked at her husband, “Are you happy with this Cal? You want to see me with another man?
“Only if it's what you want babe.”
She turned to me, “I notice you're married.”
I held up my left hand, the dying firelight glinting on the gold band. My most valuable possession. Not for the monetary value, but for what it represented, “Whenever I come up here to the north, my wife - Sandra, just tells me to enjoy myself. She never says how. Being with you doesn't mean I don't love her anymore. She's the kindest, sexiest lady in the world. But if my conscience can live with it, then so can she.”
Laura studied me for a long time, looking deep into my eyes in the semi-darkness. Then finally she lowered her arms from her breasts, uncovering her nakedness, “Come here and lie down.”
Before I did as she asked, I stoked the fire and threw on a few more logs …
. . .
I went to lie down but Laura was obviously so worked up by her husband's attentions that she couldn't wait any longer. She pushed me back onto the sleeping mats and straddled my legs. She held my face in her tiny hands and pushed her tongue between my lips.
To be honest it felt really weird. Not the kiss itself from the warm and willing young woman lying on top of me, with her nipples brushing enticingly against my chest, but the fact that her husband was kneeling just a few feet away watching us. His cock pulsing and still shining and slick from Laura's secretions.
I kissed her back. Our tongues touched, tasted, entwined. She tasted of fresh, minty toothpaste. I felt her little teeth nip at my bottom lip and she gasped into my open mouth as my hands slid up her ribcage and the backs of my knuckles brushed the sides of her breasts.
“Don't tease me,” she breathed.
I circled her areolae gently with my fingertips before pinching her nipples. She arched her back in delight, pressing her breasts against my hands and her groin against my stomach.
Cal had shuffled closer and was wanking himself with long, lazy strokes, his expression unreadable as my rough hands roamed over his young wife's body. Then Laura wriggled backwards and suddenly grasped my cock, pointing it upwards. My breath exploded through my clenched teeth as she slid herself down on me, burying my cock completely up inside her tight, wet vagina. If I'd died right then, I would've died a happy man.
“How does he feel babe?” asked Cal. Laura reached out and grasped hold of his cock, forcing him to edge even closer.
“Nice. He's filling me right up.”
I clutched Laura's hips as she rode me. A few teasingly slow strokes followed by a burst of bouncing speed where each time I pushed upwards, straining to get further inside the warm, silky glove enveloping me. Laura leaned forward a little and took Cal's shining cock in her mouth, taking in as much of him as she could, sucking hard. I'd never made a habit of studying other men's tackle before but had to admit that Cal had a very impressive cock. Smooth looking with just one or two big veins meandering along the slightly upward curve of its length. His foreskin had peeled back from the shining marbled tip as it swelled. Strings of Laura's saliva dripped onto my shoulder as she greedily slurped and licked away at his engorged glans.
Then she kissed me. I was taken so utterly by surprise as Laura pushed her wet tongue into my mouth, a salty kiss that tasted of another man's cock. His cock. Laura wanted to do something outrageously erotic and give me no choice but to take part. I hungrily kissed her back and tried not to think too much about what had made her lips taste so tangy.
I simply grabbed her hips, pushing myself up inside her as deeply as I could Laura gasped and wriggled above me, enjoying the sensations and delicious friction between our sweating bodies. She guided Cal forward and pushed his bloated cock against my chest, brushing the slimy purple head over my nipple. I let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure.
Continuing to ride me, Laura wanked Cal against my skin. He closed his eyes, evidently enjoying the sensation of the hard little nub of my nipple and curling chest hairs tickling the sensitive underside of his glans.
“Do it yourself,” Laura whispered, taking her hand away. For a second Cal looked at her blankly, then began thrusting himself against me, coating my chest as his cock oozed less than six inches from my face. This was beyond anything I had ever done, but it felt good.
Very good. So good it scared me.
I felt Cal's heavy balls slapping against my ribcage as he shifted position, angling himself so his cock pointed up at my throat. Barely inches from my face, so close now that I could smell him. The manly muskiness of him. Laura looked down at me and grinned, “That looks so fucking hot I think it's got me even wetter.”
I couldn't help myself. I inhaled deeply through my nose. Laura and Cal kissed as he continued fucking my chest. He certainly didn't seem to have any qualms about tasting himself on his wife's breath.
Then all at once the engorged purple tip of Cal's cock nudged my stubbly chin. He jolted with the pleasure of feeling a hundred tiny pinpricks tickling his knob all at once even as I recoiled. Part of me felt repulsed at having another man's penis this close to my face. Part of me was fascinated as I watched a pearl of fluid ooze from its tiny slit and dribble onto my chest.
And another part of me, a secret part that I hadn't realised was there before wanted to poke out my tongue as far as I could and taste him. I'd wondered occasionally what it would be like to suck another man but had never made a conscious effort to find out. I was straight as an arrow. Heterosexual. Married to a lovely woman with whom I still had amazing sex.
“Go on,” coaxed Laura, as if reading my mind, “give him a little lick. I do all the time.”
Yeah, but you're a girl, I thought. It's normal for you.
I shook my head. I'd need a little more convincing. Once that line was crossed it couldn't be uncrossed. Laura stopped her jiggling and writhing and regarded the tableau in front of her, staring with her big green eyes and swaying dreamily from side to side now, with me still deep inside her, massaging the silky walls of her vagina. Her husband of six months was kneeling by the shoulders of a middle-aged man they'd only just met, fucking his slimy cock against his chest hair.
Again, I had to admit it was a very impressive cock. Seven or eight inches, curved upward slightly, thick with pulsing veins and a shining purple glans.
“Go on, I've never seen a man go down on another man,” Laura urged. Her voice carried an eager little girl quality, as if daring us to go further. Cal pushed his cock against my chin. I felt it's spongy tip rub against the hairs making the same scratchy sound my fingers made when I stroked my bristles.
Laura swayed her hips, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my loins, “Just a little lick?”
Cal inched himself closer until his cock was beside my mouth. I could feel the heat from his skin as I watched it swell, actually see the veins pulse along its length. His glans brushed the corner of my mouth.
Instantly I felt my own cock twitch inside Laura. I felt ashamed of my reaction, embarrassed for myself. Against everything I'd ever believed in, I was getting turned on.
Cal pushed the slippery head of his cock across my lips. I felt its wet heat and silky smoothness, and wondered if either of them would notice if I poked out just the tip of my tongue and licked him. Just the tiniest taste of him. Of course they would.
“Open your mouth,” said Laura softly, a sensual whisper, “suck him.”
Cal continued to smear his pre-cum across my lips like some x-rated lip balm.
“Suck him Steve. Suck my husband's cock …”
I felt Cal push against my lips, demanding entrance. He'd let me fuck his pretty young wife so I realised it was the least I could do. Besides, I wanted to. Ohmygod, I wanted to. If this made me gay I didn't care. I opened my mouth and the slick purple head of Cal's beautiful penis slipped inside.
I wrapped my lips around him and explored his knob with my tongue, savouring the salty taste and stickiness of him as he began to slowly fuck my face.
“Oh my fucking god, that is so sexy,” purred Laura. Now that I'd done as she'd asked, she carried on where she'd left off, gyrating her hips and squeezing me with her vaginal muscles, “I'm going to cum …”
I learned quickly that if I relaxed my jaw I could take more of Cal's cock in my mouth. I licked along his hot length, my tongue feeling the pulse of blood in the prominent veins. In those few minutes I no longer felt like a man or even a woman but some genderless thing whose only purpose was to extract every possible modicum of pleasure from sex. Fuck my mouth, I thought. Cum in my mouth while your wife watches us.
My hands left his wife's hips and instead clutched Cal. One hand on his tight ass, pulling him into me, urging him to thrust deeper into my mouth; the other fondling his pendulous balls.
I caressed the engorged stem of Cal's cock with my lips and swirled my tongue over the glistening head while my hands gently fondled the bottom of his shaft, keeping his foreskin pulled back. Cal jerked his hips upwards towards my face, thrusting himself deep into my mouth and moaning. I pushed my hand down between his legs and stroked up and down his crease, fondling the secret spot behind his testicles where the skin was warm and smooth and sensitive, going as far as caressing the taut rim of his backside. That was too much for him. I sucked him in hard as he started to cum.
With a wordless grunt, Cal's hands went to the back of my bald head, clutching me desperately as his hot spunk flooded my mouth. Jet after jet splashed the back of my throat and tongue until I gagged, until I felt like I was drowning on warm, watery glue. I opened my mouth, gasping for air, letting his cock slip out and still his ejaculating continued.
Strings of it fountained across my face in white blobs and festoons, stinging my eyes. I laughed out loud as warm semen ran down my cheeks. In that moment I felt somehow liberated.
Laura screamed as she orgasmed simultaneously, grinding herself down on me so hard I felt the spongy entrance of her cervix kiss the tip of my cock.
“Swallow it,” cried Laura. I did as she asked, gulping down as much of the bitter fluid as I could, feeling it slide down my throat. I had a mental image of badly mixed wallpaper paste, warm and lumpy.
Then Laura quickly nudged Cal impatiently out of the way and leant forward to kiss me, her tongue pushing urgently into my mouth. She wanted to taste him. I hungrily kissed her back as beside us, Cal squeezed out the last few drops, emptying his twitching bollocks onto our joined faces.
“Wow,” said Cal, panting from the exertion.
“You can say that again. That wasn't quite the threesome I was expecting,” breathed Laura. She lay beside me for a few minutes, one smooth thigh d****d over mine until she'd finally got her breath back.
“Hey, you haven't cum yet,” said Laura, pushing sweat soaked hair from her face.
“One of you could do the honours,” I suggested. Then added quietly, “I don't mind which one.”
“I know,” said Laura, “since you've already given Cal a blowjob, why don't you go the whole way?”
Cal and I looked at each other blankly.
“Why don't you fuck him?”
“I haven't done that since I was at uni, babe,” Cal protested.
So Cal was actually bisexual and this wasn't his first time.
“Go on,” she said, “assume the position.”
“Um, if it's all the same to you,” I said to Laura, “I'd rather you did.”
She tutted and huffed at me, but nevertheless got onto her hands and knees with her gorgeous round ass up in the air.
Laura purred with appreciation as I pushed myself into her back passage and fucked her hard. We continued for what seemed like hours. Cal went down on me and licked me clean, minutes after I'd shot my load deep inside his wife's ass.
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