Tim idly looked around Vera's cabin and sat down in a chair beside the bed. He reached across the bedside table and lifted a pair of panties off the edge of a drawer where she had carelessly thrown them. He drew them through his fingers and reveled in the sensuous feel of them against his hands. For the past two weeks he had been on a ski trip in the upper Sierras with a group of men friends and he hadn't made love to a woman during the entire period, only to other men. It would be very good to get his hands on the woman whose body had recently filled the undergarments he held in his hands, he thought to himself.
Just then she walked in the door. After a big bug and his explanation of why he was in the area so unexpectedly they went on to other matters. The other fellows would be at the ski lodge for another week, he told Vera, but he had cut his skiing short to be able to drop in and surprise her when he learned of her temporary job.
She had noticed with pleasure that he kept looking at her breasts while he was talking to her. It pleased her to know he was probably thinking of getting his hands on them. She also had definite designs on the lump she saw in the front of his pants under his fly. Now he became more direct about the desires he had for her.
"This place must be good for you," he said, "You're looking swell. Especially those nice things sticking up under your sweater there. I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of that groovy little pair ever since you walked through the door," he said.
"So I noticed," she replied. Then she pouted her pretty mouth in an expression of mock displeasure. "But what's little about them, anyway? I'm glad you think they're a nice pair – but are they really so small?"
He smiled at her. "Purely a term of affection, my dear, purely a term of affection for them. You know damned well I love those sweet tits of yours."
"Well, it better be purely a term of affection, honey," she chided. "I'll bet one thing, mine are bigger than the ones on any of the other sex partners you've had for the past couple of weeks at the ski lodge!"
He laughed. Compared with the only other sex partners he'd had during that period – other men – she was right, of course.
"Okay, smarty," he admitted. "You got me there. I'm pretty tired of 'hairy-legs' as sex partners anyway." To prove his point he reached over and gripped her shoulder and pulled her closer. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, keeping it on the outside of her sweater, and kissed her on the mouth. When he felt her lips part and her tongue shoot out, he dropped the hand to her waist and slipped it under the material.
"Ummmm," she cooed, "nice."
"And this?" he asked, bringing the palm of his hand over her breast and cupping the nipple in the center. "Nicer," she breathed.
She could feel the pressure of his stiff penis through his pants and, as he returned the touch of her tongue, she pressed her pelvis lightly against it. She dropped her hand to the front of his pants and gingerly worked the tips of her fingers against it through the rough fabric. "And I could say the same about this," she volunteered, exerting a bit more pressure on the organ.
"Careful, honey," he warned. "If you keep on fooling around with that, it's liable to get out of my pants and find some nice, new place to go." He burrowed his face into the thickness of her clean smelling blonde hair and felt her warm to him as he fitted his body still closer to hers. The smooth, fair skin of her cheeks and forehead brushed against his neck as she returned his hug.
"Like where?" she asked, continuing the banter. "Oh, any nice warm, dark place would be okay," he answered, "as long as it's damp and soft, and has a cute little patch of blonde curls all around it."
"Aren't many places like that," she said.
"I know one," he answered. "And one's all I need. Unless I'm very mistaken, there's a perfect little place just like I described very close to here. Right here, as a matter of fact." He pinched her skirt at the junction of her thighs and she took a step backward and yelped. She grinned and slapped at his hand. When she missed, she reached down and pulled her sweater up the front of her body until both beautiful breasts were plainly visible. He was stunned by the shape and freshness of them even though he had seen them a hundred times before.
He immediately put his hands on them and when he did she slapped her hands on his wrists.
"Ha ha," she laughed, "see, if I can't hit your hands when I slap at them, then I'll bait a little trap for them."
"With that pair of knockers for bait, you can't lose," he answered with a smile. "New that you've got them caught, what are you going to do with them?"
"Leave them right where they are," she said. "You know, I've always loved for you to play with my tits, Tim. I had some yokel here the other day who seemed to think they were squeeze-toys. He was being so rough, I was afraid I'd be black and blue. It's a pleasant change to have your hand on them."
"Who was he?" asked Tim. "I thought there weren't any men around here."
"Just a guy who came to deliver some provisions," she answered. "Forget it. He won't be back. He got to be a real bastard and I ran him off for good."
"You know what?" he posed. "We are yammering a lot. If you're as hot for a nice good fuck as I am, you'll keep your mouth shut and open that other set of lips down there, that sweet little pair with all the love juice inside."
She didn't reply in words. She put her mouth to his ear and stuck her tongue inside, delicately darting the tip against the sensitive inner surface.
He picked her up and lay her down on the bed. Her skirt was askew, displaying her long, gracefully shaped legs all the way up to her upper thighs. Her sweater, which she had raised above her breasts, was around her neck like a thick collar. She looked at him with smoky eyes as he knelt over her on the bed and pulled it off over her head. Her bright hair fanned out across the bed an he tossed the garment aside.
He took a few steps backward and yanked his shirt off, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers. When he unbuckled his belt, she raised her head from the bed a bit so she could see what followed, and, when he stepped out of his pants, she dropped her eyes from his eyes to his crotch. A giant bulge distended the front of his jockey shorts. He kept looking at her, taking in the beautiful lines of her half-naked body and the provocative disarray of what little clothing she still wore. Her skirt was raised so high that he knew the leg band of her panties couldn't be more than a couple of inches higher. She still wore her tennis shoes and wool crew socks that she had donned for the walk to the girls' swimming hole.
She looked into his eyes and knew what he wanted, that he wanted her naked and writhing under him as he drove his organ deep into her quivering, moist flesh. She started to sit up and remove her shoes and socks but he stopped her. "Never mind," he said, "leave them on. I can't wait. You look so fucking sexy there that I can't wait to get into your pants and give you some loving."
Again she thought of his organ ramming into her. She was very excited too, but she did hope he'd wait just a bit before he tried to plunge the entire instrument inside her. But she was wrong. His desire for her was not exactly as she thought. But she very quickly discovered what he wanted to do to her and she loved it. He dropped to his knees in front of her and took one of her firm, softly rounded knees in each hand. He spread them slowly apart until he could see the crotch of her panties in the darkness under her disheveled skirt. She swooned as she felt his hands glide up the sensitive inner surface of her thighs and knew that he would soon have her stark naked with no panties or skirt to hide her genitals under. Almost methodically, he slowly loosened the top of her skirt and drew it over her slender legs. He let it fall in a pile on the floor in front of him, then pushed his head up between her legs toward the silken triangle of her panty crotch.