Ascending Trail

I'll tell you right now that it wasn't my idea. I got dragged into it protesting all the way. It'll be fun, they said. It'll improve your fitness, they said. It'll be a taste of hell on earth, is what they should have said.

It was a hike up into the mountains. There was this nice trail that included one thousand steps known as, you guessed it, the thousand steps. The idea was that a group of us should walk up it, preferably on a regular basis, to help improve our general fitness levels.

Now I am twenty and consider myself to be reasonably fit. I'm not going to run any marathons, but neither am I going to get tired out and puffing if I have to run to catch the train. I wasn't overweight, having what I considered a neat figure with padding in the appropriate places. My boyfriend sure had no complaints about that padding.

I tried to explain that I wasn't all that keen on hiking up the side of a mountain but was gently derided. Just try it once. If you don't like it you needn't do it a second time. So there I was, hiking up a mountain.

It wasn't too bad to start with. A nice easy trail amongst trees with birds singing gaily, the sun shining, and a gentle breeze blowing. Then we came to the first set of steps. One hundred of them, going up. Do you know how high a hundred steps takes you? I worked it out as I climbed them.

A standard building has about ten steps per flight, with two flights for each level. Therefore a hundred steps was the equivalent of climbing five levels in a building. That meant that the full thousand steps was the same as climbing fifty levels. Any building with fifty levels is a fucking skyscraper and I was supposed to climb it? And there was the sloped trail between each set of stairs. This was going to kill me.

I persevered and finished the first hundred steps without a word of complaint. After the second set of steps I had words of complaint but no breath with which to say them. The third set of steps were behind us and my thoughts were murderous as we approached the fourth set. I felt like whimpering as the fifth set came into sight but I have a backbone. I would climb this damn set.

Toiling up those last few steps I could see a sign indicating a rest area off to the side of the trail. Fine. I could use a rest. Stepping up off the last step and by an unfortunate chance my foot, ah, slipped, and I fell down. I didn't fall hard but it did seem to me as though I had twisted my ankle.

My friends were very understanding and sympathetic, helping me limp off the trail and into the rest area, which turned out to be a nice secluded little nook with a picnic table and a couple of benches. I sat down on the bench, happy to have the load off my feet.

Now came the hard part. I had to persuade my friends that I'd be fine but that it would be unwise for me to continue climbing.

"I'll wait hear and let my ankle rest while you lot go on up," I told them. "That way I won't spoil your walk. You can pick me up on the way back."

There was a bit of back and forth between the girls but I held firm and eventually they went on with the hike. The fact that we had our phones with us helped to ease their minds. They went on their way while I sat back and rested my ankle, smiling bravely.

I gave them a minute or two to get going and then I carefully tested out my ankle, taking a few steps to see if it was recovering. Would you believe a miracle? My ankle was fine, with not the slightest twinge. I'll admit I was tempted to race out and catch up with the girls but decided that I'd better not. I wouldn't want to suffer a relapse, now would I? I settled back down on the bench, reaching for my phone. I would do some texting.

"That," said an amused voice, "is one of the fastest recoveries I've ever seen."

I gave a yelp of surprise, jumping to my feet and turning around to see who was there. Would you believe that there was this guy standing under one of the trees, leaning back against it? He'd probably been there right along and no-one had even noticed him. I was noticing him now, I can tell you that.

He came sauntering out from under the tree, strolling over to stand in front of me, his eyes giving me a thorough once over as he came. I was doing the same to him.

What he saw was me, blonde, pretty, nicely stacked, and reasonably fit. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and they showed off my figure quite nicely, a fact that he seemed to appreciate. What I saw was a tall man, quite solid looking, about thirty. Not unhandsome, but not exactly a knockout either. Your average man, I guess, but he had a certain air to him that made him seem rather more than average.

"Good afternoon," he said, still sounding amused. "I'm Brian."

"Ah, hullo," I replied. "I'm, uh, I'm Susan."

"Your ankle seems to have recovered remarkably quickly. Are you going to race up after your friends?"

"I don't think so," I said. "One has to be careful about these things. I just feel that running up another hundred steps would be just the thing to cause my ankle to give way so I'll stay here and rest it."

"You do realise that it may be an hour or so before your friends return? It's quite a way to the top."

"That's OK. I have my phone. I'll just send messages while waiting."

"Well, fortunately for you I know a way to help you pass the time," Brian said.

That was the only warning I got. He calmly stepped a little closer, flicked open the button on my shorts and pushed them and my panties down to about knee level. I was horrified. My t-shirt, while of a reasonable length, certainly wasn't long enough to cover my crotch. I squealed and reached for my shorts to drag them back up, but he stopped me.

Not only did he stop me but he stopped me from bending down by putting a hand against my chest. Square across my breasts, to be precise.

"Don't try to pull them up," he told me. "If you do I'll just pull them down again. They can stay like that for a while."

With that he took a step back and looked at me, and no prizes for guessing where he was looking.

"If you dare to try and touch me I'll scream," I told him. "There're people on the trail you know and it's not far off."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you. Not yet, anyway. I just want you to stand there with your shorts down while we talk."

"For heaven's sake, why?" I demanded.

"Because I want to look at you, for a start. Also, standing around and talking to a man with your shorts down and your pussy on display is going to get you aroused. Once you're nicely aroused I'll start the touching."

He had to be fucking kidding me. What made him think that standing in front of him would get me aroused? Apart, I realised, from the fact that he was looking at my pussy and I knew he was and I also knew he was going to try to touch me there at some stage.

"Ah, just what do you mean by start touching?" I asked. I mean, just how far did he think he could go?

"I mean that I will place my hands upon your body," he said, and I could tell he was laughing at me. "After I have placed my hands upon your body I will follow up by placing this inside your body."

He patted his groin when he said this and I could see that he had a rather large lump inside his trousers. Just how big, I wondered.

"You mean that you're going to try and rape me?" I asked, shocked. This was a situation I'd never been in before. I'd had to beat off a boyfriend a time or two, but that was more because they were trying it on a bit too hard, not trying to rape me.

"Certainly not," he said, and sounded genuinely offended. "If you consent then it won't be rape. If you don't consent then it will be actual rape, not trying."

Oh, how nice. He wouldn't try to rape me. He actually would unless I gave my consent. What a gentleman he was.

"You must know that if you try to rape me I will scream and people on the trail will come and help me."

"No," he said, slowly shaking his head. "I don't think you're the type to scream. Fancy having all those people looking at you when you're half naked with a cock inside you. Getting a friendly bonk would be better."

A friendly bonk? That's a new way to describe what he wanted to do.

"So, how's your arousal coming along?" he asked.

"It's not," I snapped. "Any arousal is all in your head."

"Uh-huh. My head and your breasts."

I glanced down and said a rude word. OK. I said a couple of rude words. My nipples had tightened and that was painfully obvious. I was wearing a stretchy sports bra and it was too thin to hide my nipples when they peaked.

"That doesn't mean I'm aroused," I said quickly. "It just means that the breeze is a bit chilly."

He gave me a derisive look and before I could stop him he reached down and cupped my mound. I squeaked and slapped at his arm but he was already drawing it back.

"The chilly breeze seems to be heating other areas," he murmured and I felt like killing him.

It wasn't fair. My pussy was on display in the middle of the day and he was looking at it and talking about having sex with me. Of course there was going to be some reaction. That didn't mean I was aroused. There again, the heat I could feel pooled down there and the moisture prickling against my lips didn't mean that I wasn't aroused.

I was standing there, glaring at him, wondering what I should do, and he unzipped. Just like that he extracted his erection, letting it stand tall, like a promise of things to come.

"Don't you bring that thing anywhere near me," I said, backing away from him. Unfortunately I couldn't back up very far. The table was behind me and I bumped into it. He grinned at me and took a step closer and I pressed further back against the table, my hands going behind me to support me.

"Good girl," he said softly, and I'm like, "What the hell?"

He crouched down and pulled my shorts and panties right down and stood up again before I could do or say anything. When he stood his hand also reached out again, covering me. That's when I twigged as to what the good girl meant. Backing up the way I had had left me effectively presenting myself to him so he could move on in.

He moved closer and his erection was now brushing against my lips, pressing against the sweet spot. It wouldn't take any effort at all for him to drive home. I swallowed nervously.

"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare. I'll scream. I swear I will."

I didn't really expect my threat to deter him and I was pleasantly surprised when he just stood there, cock just touching me, not driving home, which was what I had expected. I found out why fast enough. His hands slid up inside my t-shirt, catching hold of my sports bra and pushing it up off my breasts. With that done his hands closed over my breasts and he gently rubbed them.

"If you're going to scream, now's the time," he told me and he pushed.

He was spot on target, his cock slipping between my lips and into me. I tried to scream, but all I could come out with was a soft, "ah," as he moved slowly into me. If the swine had just driven home hard and fast I'd have been all indignant and I would have screamed, but he just slipped in, moving gently into me, his hands softly rubbing my breasts as he did so.

With his cock fully in me and his hands caressing my breasts there was nothing I could do. I mean, fancy screaming at this stage. Anyone who came would get a real eyeful. I just leaned back against the table and looked at him.

That arrogant sod had the gall to smile and wink at me, and then he started pumping me. He pulled back, oh, so slowly, watching my reaction as he did so, and then returned, sliding smoothly back into place. I found myself pushing to meet him and silently called myself some very rude names. Not that calling myself names helped at all. He kept up those terribly sweet slow thrusts and I kept pushing to meet them.

My awareness had very quickly narrowed to the fires inside me and the way he was stoking them, building them. His movements were coming quicker and I was responding, pushing back harder, taking him into me, my breath coming in short gasps.

Brian had found a rhythm that suited him and he was away, taking his time and doing his best to drive me wild. I was panting, making excited little sounds, and he was thrusting into me, and thrusting, driving in deep, pulling way back and then driving forcefully home while I just took it and found myself wanting more.

There was that timeless moment when the man takes you and you're riding with him, accepting the pleasure he's giving you. It's a moment that seems to stretch forever, and then it's over, and you know what is coming and can't help but plead for it.

He was going harder and faster and my climax was coming. What he was doing to me should be illegal, but I couldn't help wanting more. (Come to think of it, what he was doing to me was illegal.) He lifted me higher and pushed me over the edge, his hand coming up to close over my mouth as I screamed out my climax.

I slumped back against the table, feeling completely boneless. Brian was smiling and breathing hard and giving me the once over. He did enjoy looking at me.

"Well," he said happily, "that was a nice little interlude, wasn't it?"

I couldn't think of anything to say and just looked at him.

"Now," he added, "we can get down to serious business."

I was stunned. What the hell did he mean by that crack? It appeared that what he meant was that he was a greedy bastard. He took my arm and pulled me away from the table so I was standing up. To my amazement he then turned me around and gently pushed me until I was leaning forward over the table.

I was turning my head wanting to know what the hell he thought he was doing when I felt his erection pressing against me again.

I was like, "What the hell? You can't. You just did it. You leave me alone. AAAH!"

That last was the result of his cock driving fully into me, really ramming home. Apparently Brian could and would and just like that he was taking me again, coming in hot and hard. It was dawning on me that I hadn't actually felt Brian climax. It seems he had let me get mine over and done with and now it was time for his fun.

His sweet and gentle possession of me was a thing of the past. He started off at the same speed with which he'd finished and sent me over the edge. He was all driving action, his hands gripping my hips and helping to pull me onto him as he drove in.

I was reduced to giving out a series of jerky cries as he pounded me, feeling him rampaging in my passage. What was more I found this new assault terribly exciting and arousing, sensations just rolling through as he drove in. I was already excited from the earlier session. What this was doing to me was incredible.

Brian had been totally worked up. He couldn't have been anything else after what he'd been doing earlier. Now he was finishing himself off and my body was cheering him on as I felt a second climax hovering.

I guess hovering was the wrong word. I had no sooner realised that I was going to climax again when I was doing so, this time without screaming as I didn't have the breath for it. I just shuddered under the force of it as it totally wiped out the memory of my earlier climax, while at the same time I could feel Brian jerking and shaking as he took me, his seed splashing deep inside me.

Once again I was slumped over the table, breathing hard. This time Brian was also slumped over, leaning on me and breathing hard. He disengaged and moved away from me, tidying up his clothes as he did so.

"You really should pull your pants up," he told me. "Someone might come along."

I gave him a killer look but also hastened to tidy up my clothes, glaring at him all the while.

"Are you going to wait here for your friends still?" Brian asked.

"Yes," I said shortly.

"That's good. I figure they'll be another hour. That gives me half an hour to recharge my batteries and then we can try again."

I sat down with a bump. He wouldn't, would he? He just might.

"I'll be on my way," he said, moving back towards the trail. "You stay here and I'll be back when I'm ready for you."

He waved to me and vanished, leaving me sitting there wondering. The others would expect to find me here when they came back. Of course I could just send them a text message and walk back down the trail. No, I decided. I'd sit tight. There was no way Brian would come back.