Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 A Good Samaritan gets his reward: (c) Hamilton Joyce Mf

   The dense woodland gave way to grass punctuated by ancient, weathered
rocky out-crops as I emerged above the tree-line.  The mountain stream
whose pleasant burbling had accompanied me unseen through the woods was now
visible meandering through the lush alpine valley.  Compared to the
woodland that had been full of birdsong the plateau was silent except for
the cold breeze in the grasses.  I stood silent, amazed as ever at the
sudden view with its arc of snow covered mountains in the far distance, a
surprise after the enclosed world of the forest.

   There were still plaques of snow in the lee of rocks and the Spring
flowers, dog-violets first and later yellow jonquils and blue gentians,
with occasional outcrops of the tiny wild tulip were waiting those few
extra days to definitively mark the end of winter.

   I sat where we had always sat and remembered that day exactly a year
earlier I had scattered Simone's ashes here in our own secret place. 
Remembered, too, the passion of our love-making in this our Garden of Eden.
I knew I would weep, and I did.

   I must have sat for hours, my mind fixed in the past, lost in happy-sad
recollections......

   And not noticing the dark clouds driving up behind me unseen until the
first rain spattered on my bare hands and face.  I looked round and up into
a menacing sky: the eagle that had circled those long hours had flown away
already: more sense than me.
The light rain broke the spell: I had not intended to stay as long as I
had, and the afternoon's blue skies had held no hint of foul weather.  I
know the mountains, but was only really only half equipped for these last

throes of winter.

   Sure enough, as I scrambled down the zigzagging path the rain really
started, the sort of downpour that drenches even waterproofs.  Huge
bitter-cold drops falling from a great height, and with them a much denser
screen of smaller drops from the lower, angry clouds, and to make sure no
part of the walker escaped, there were upward splashes from the rivulets
now scouring the path.  I was cold and wet by the time I came to the old
miners' track which was easier walking.  No longer treacherous under foot,
and a sensible gradient deigned for the their ox and horse carts, but
exposed on the edge of the precipice with no tree cover to reduce the full
force of the wind: in my face.  Thank god it was downhill, and the surface
of the old road was still mostly intact.

   I still had five miles....  about two hours......  when the first ice
came in the wind, followed by wet snow, and then a blizzard of proper snow.
Lord!  I was glad I was on a clear path as the visibility reduced to a
couple of yards.

   I could have missed her if she had been sitting or laying down, but she
was hobbling along supported by a wet-looking stick she must have found by
the path.  I stopped in my tracks: a ghost?

   For a moment I thought it was my Simone: same blonde hair, wet and
bedraggled though, same slim, tiny figure scarcely five feet tall.  Her
jeans hugged her slender legs and cute bum making her feet in hiking boots
look over-large.  But only her boots were fit for these conditions as the
jeans were obviously not water-proof, and her anorak looked cut for fashion
rather than foul weather.  But then even my gear not adequate for this
tempest!  She was startled when I spoke....

   "Are you lost, miss?"

   "No, but I've sprained my ankle and it's taking an age.  I should have
been down in Lalonde St Marc two hours ago I'm so slow.  And cold.  And it
hurts like hell.  And I have to keep stopping to rest."

   Brave girl, I thought.  Stupid to go into the mountains in those
clothes, but not weeping: soldiering on.

   "I have a hut about a mile down the track.  We should hurry as it looks
like this snow is going to lay and then the path gets really difficult. 
And we could get hypothermia in this wind with wet clothes.  You're going
to piggy-back.  Dump that stick."

   She was not very heavy and I'm a big lad, so we were soon back at the
old miners' cabin Simone and I had bought for our weekends and holidays.  I
was glad to dump the girl by the door, although to be honest I had enjoyed
the feel of thighs at my waist, female arms around my neck for the first
time in a long year.

   ........................................

   I pumped up the hurricane lamp and lit it so she stood looking at the
single room with its huge black stove.  Spartan.  A table with two chairs,
a double bed, a grey-painted wooden cupboard standing lop-sided as one
ball-shaped support was missing, rough wood floor, one stone wall with logs
stacked against it, the other walls and ceiling rough hewn planks, a
curtain across one corner, two buckets of water and an ash bucket by the
stove, an old tin bath, a washing up bowl, a heap of pans and plates, a
broken-backed sofa.  A door about four foot high in the stone wall (my
ice-box in winter, my pantry in summer).  And that was it!

   "We won't be going down to the village: it's still four miles and with
your ankle...."

   "Does your phone work here: mine won't?  And they'll be getting worried
at the Institute soon.  I don't want the Mountain Rescue turned out now I'm
safe."

   "Mine works.  Satellite."

   I handed it to her, and as she phoned put a couple more logs in the
furnace.  The hut was still warm, but it would be really cosy stoked up,
and it needed to be hot to cook anything on the cast-iron top.  So she was
staying with the Nuns: they had a foundation for urban kids down on their
luck to experience the wilderness.....  and doubtless get some
indoctrination.

   "What's your name, mister?  They are asking."

   "Jacques Relan, but call me Hank!"

   "I'm Eve Delano."

   I went to the cupboard: some of Simone's stuff was still there..... 
why, I don't know; perhaps it would have been too painful to pack it into
my rucksack to take it away....  And the silk dressing gown she liked me to
wear.

   "The Nuns are OK with it.  Told me off for trying to get to the summit
and back in the same day.  They're right, of course."

   "Look, we've got to get out of these wet clothes and get them dry.  I
haven't got a change of clothes either as I meant to get down to my car in
the village, like you.  Wear this!  And here's a towel: no hot water yet.
Sorry.  Oh, and the loo's behind the curtain.  I promise I won't peek as
you undress if you promise you won't peek at me...  "

   ..........................

   "It's OK.  You can turn round now."

   She giggled and as she smiled showed a row of perfect teeth and full,
red lips.  Happier, she seemed to have recovered a bit from her ordeal.

   As for me I stood astounded.  The pink silk shift clung to her young
body: mid calf length it just about covered a cute little bum, hips more
slender still than Simone's, breasts smaller too, but seemingly just as
pert and shapely, the belt tied in a bow tight enough to accentuate the
trimness of her waist.  Slightly ashamed I noticed her nipples were erect,
tiny peaks in the pink satin, ashamed at looking, but also worried by the
thickening I could feel in my penis.  What would the girl think?  With blue
eyes and blonde shoulder length hair it could almost have been Simone when
we first met..  at seventeen, so many happy years ago.  The sadness I had
felt in the afternoon in our special place returned, but my cock stiffened
even more, tenting the white silk of my dressing gown.  If she noticed, and
she surely must have done, the girl said nothing.
"Sit down and get warm, Eve.  I'll find a comb for your hair or it will
be dreadfully tangled when it's dry, and then we'll have a look at your

ankle."

   I sat beside her on the sofa and her closeness, the faint scent of young
woman, something brought back the memory of the night we had broken the
sofa.  I remembered the little cry of surprise as the back had collapsed
years ago under the strength of my passion, then Simone's giggle, then the
throaty sound of her grunting orgasm and the feel of her cunt gripping my
cock as I filled it with my hot spunk.  My cock twitched!  Damn!  I was
sure precum would soak through the dressing gown and complete my disgrace.
Possibly frighten the girl, who had just survived an alarming peril.

   As she sat I knelt in front and gingerly lifted her ankle: it was
swollen but clearly not broken.  She had managed to hobble on it after all.
I had an ankle support in the cupboard, and put it on her, holding her calf
and ankle, smooth and shapely both, perhaps a second or two longer than
necessary.

   "Let me comb your hair, Eve, get those tangles out." It was calming....
my heart had been beating, woken up by my cock I guess...  there was a sort
of tranquillity as the black comb threaded though her blonde locks leaving
them straight, damp still, shoulder length.  Ash blonde, so blonde as to be
almost white: I found myself wondering if she had ash blonde pubic fleece
like Simone, or whether the curls were golden like other blondes I had
known before we met.

   "Hot dogs with mustard or tomato ketchup."

   "Oooh!  Mustard, please, and the ankle feels much better like this."

   "Wine or beer?  We don't drink the water unless it's boiled.  And that's
hours away!"

   "I like wine.  Especially red."

   "Good, so do I."

   A tin of franks on the stove, a few slices of dark bread, and plastic
beakers of the local red wine, tannin-rich and strong.

   She ate four, me two, I put our plates on the floor, and topped our wine
up with the last of the bottle.  I reckoned she had more than half the
bottle, myself well less than half.  It seemed to have relaxed her and she
cuddled closer to me so our shoulders touched.

   "Nothing like a full belly and a glass of wine, eh?  Feeling a bit
warmer?"

   "It's lovely here, Hank."

   I kid you not: in a moment her arms were round my neck and her lips
pursed.  Without thinking I kissed her, felt her hug me tighter, felt her
breasts through her satin and my silk robe, firm little tits.  I felt her
mouth open and slipped my tongue in.  I had slipped back twelve months: she
was so like my lost Simone.  Like her she forced her tongue into my mouth.

   She must have noticed my erect cock, but what could I do?  Not my fault.

   Finally we came up for air.

   She giggled.  "Confession!  I've got a confession to make, Hank.  I
peeked when you were undressing."

   "I didn't.  Perhaps I should have done because you are a very very very
beautiful girl, Eve."

   "And you are a handsome man, Hank.  So muscular and manly too, and I
don't only mean this...." Naughty girl brushed my cock with the back of her
hand and giggled again.  "This is my fault isn't it?"

   All I could do was nod.

   "It's all right!  I know the effect I have on men, Hank."

   By the look on her face, smile and eyes frankly seductive, she was very
happy about this effect....

   Fuck!  This had to stop before it got too far.  Clearly the girl was
young enough to think it was a game, play-sex.  Fucking dangerous situation
between a red-blooded male who had no sex for a full year, and a sexy
little nymphet.

   "I'll put a couple of logs on the boiler and bank it down.  It'll stay
in all night then, keep us warm.  You must be exhausted.  Best thing to do
is go to bed.  You use the bed, I'll use the couch."

   "No!  We'll both use the bed.  We're both tired."



   .............................

   I lay on my back in the darkness listening to the storm outside, hardly
daring to move for fear of waking Eve.  The wind always howls round this
hut: something to do with the shape of the valley I guess.  It did not keep
Eve awake; I could hear her breathing, and was only too aware that a lovely
girl was just inches from me.  All I had to do was to reach out and that
slender, silky body could be fondled and aroused, just as I used to Simone,
in this very bed after the exertions of walking or rock-climbing, after a
meal and a few glasses of wine.  I imagined those petite breasts rising and
falling as she lay on her back, nipples straining against Simone's
provocative satin slip.  My cock was aware too and was almost painfully
hard.  I should have kept to the couch: there I might have slept.  I turned
on my side facing away from her so-desirable body in the hope that sleep
would come in this position.
It did not, but I must have woken her as I turned over again restlessly
to face her in the warm darkness and I felt a warm soft hand on my belly,

then slipping into the fold of my gown.....  and stroking my cock.

   "I'm so sorry, Eve, I couldn't help it." I covered her hand with mine.

   "It's all right, Hank, I'm the same...."

   The hand grasped mine and pulled it towards her, pressing it against her
naked crotch where her night dress had ridden up, or more probably been
pulled up by the girl.  I felt the fine hair of her pubes, her swelling
mound, and then she got hold of my index finger and used it to open her
cunt lips.  Wet!  Juicy!  Lost in the fascination, even ecstasy of the
moment I felt up that warm, slippery valley and found the hard little nub
of her clitoris.

   "Yes!"

   There was a gasp in her voice as she uttered the single word, a word
that held the promise I could go further, much further.  This was the
moment that my cock took over control from my head, or perhaps the memory
of moments with Simone buried all moral thoughts about sex with what was
obviously a minor, buried those thoughts under raw, heart-thundering lust.
I had not asked Eve her age, and at this moment in time just did not
care....

   We embraced, each fingering the other, and I felt those firm breasts
against me, her tongue in my mouth.  Someone had been teaching Eve, I
thought!  No young girl should be able to kiss like that, passionate,
demanding, not hesitating one second, intimate and abandoned.

   I wanted to possess her mouth too, and forced my tongue over hers and
into her mouth, licking as far back into the palate as I could reach, And
so began the game of tongues, while each handled the other's genitals. 
Heaven!

   I wanted her tits, those firm little mounds beneath their satin.  A
nipple was standing erect under the shiny silk, and I took it between my
lips, nibbling at it, pulling.

   Her moan was of pleasure, sheer delight.  Again that whispered "Yes!",
so intimate, so quiet as if fearing someone other than her lover might hear
the promise of consent.

   I treated her other breast to the same delight, and felt her soft little
hand move from my cock to cradle my balls as if feeling their weight, and
then pulling erotically at the skin of my pouch.  Was she aware that if she
had continued caressing my cock I would have come, the pleasure now
uncontrollable?

   Again that simple word, "Yes!", but now, "Let me.  I need to feel your
lips on my breasts properly."

   In the moonless darkness I knew she was kneeling, and could imagine her
arms raised as the silk rustled over her shoulders and now-dry hair before
she lay down beside me again and kissed me on the lips, pulling the top of
my dressing gown apart so I could feel her naked breasts against my chest,
those long, nipples hard against my body.

   I wanted those young tits.  I pressed my cheek on the firm, silky, warm
flesh and inhaled the faint, exciting scent of her body.  Her nipple was
rubbery between my lips, and I gently pulled on it before taking it into my
mouth and nibbling it, sucking as my Simone had loved me to.

   "Oh yes!"

   Her hands in my hair directing my head and lips to her other nipple. 
Her breasts were pert and felt rounded as I fondled them, but now those
insistent fingers in my hair were forcing my head down her body, and my
pointed tongue found her belly button.  Spicy!  Feminine taste!  Woman, not
girl!  Down further now and my nose tickled by that fleece I had fleetingly
felt a few moments before.  Her hips rose slightly and my caressing hands
told me her legs were wide apart, flesh on thighs as firm and smoothly
satin as her breasts.  The scent of aroused woman, the invitation too
powerful to resist: I buried my face in her crotch.

   Before I even licked her the wetness bathed my face from nose down to
chin: but I pointed my tongue and slowly drew it down the crack, over the
indentation that marked her vaginal entrance, and then back up again to
circle the hard little pearl of her clitoris her hands grasping my skull
pushed my face in even closer and I heard her little gasp and once more
that simple "Yes!"
Memories, sweet memories were flooding back as I licked and sucked,
savouring each little gasp as my pointed tongue entered her vagina, each
surge of her hips when my lips pulled at her clit.  Then, just as I was

telling myself I would within seconds be enjoying her orgasm....

   "Fuck me!  Fuck me, Hank, now!"

   I hesitated still sucking.

   "Please, Hank.  I'm so close" Fuck me with your lovely cock, Please...."

   Not play sex then, not now!  This was a a bridge that once crossed....
Shit!  She was a minor, well under age.  And in any case...

   "I haven't got any condoms, Eve.  I'd get you pregnant."

   That would be a real disaster, for both of us.  Probably particularly
for me.

   But she just laughed, that childish giggle.  "I've got an implant, Hank.
It's safe, so please.  Pretty please.

   I had returned to sucking her clit, rubbing it with my nose as I
penetrated her with my tongue, holding the lips apart with my fingers.

   "Now, Hank.  Pleeeease...."

   "You on top then, Eve.  I'm heavy."

   "No!  You on top, hank.  I want to feel your weight.  I love that..."

   So she was experienced, this young girl!  My cock was ruling my head yet
again and I shifted up her body so my cock rested against her open and
so-willing cunt.  Her tiny hand grasped it, rubbed it up and down her slit
twice mingling her juices with my precum, placed the knob against her
vaginal opening, and it was as much the upward heave of her hips as my
downward thrust that made my cock slide smoothly into her till our pubic
bones met, my bushy hairs mingled with her fine fleece.

   "Now!"

   I moved my hips in rhythm with her up-thrusting body: or was it her hips
moving synchronised with mine.

   Whatever, we were going at it faster and harder now and my cock was
hitting the end of her vagina each time, and every time her cervix was
struck by my knob she gave a little shriek.  As we went faster and faster,
passions rising, these squeaks became one long cry part of pain perhaps,
but mostly of pleasure.  I would find it difficult to control my own orgasm
if this went on much longer: I knew it was important this first time that
either she came before me or we came together.

   In fact I needn't have worried, not even considered it, as her throaty
moans were replaced by shouts of "I'm coming!  Hank, faster...." and
remarkably adult swearing from such a young girl!  Which of course
triggered me, and I pumped four hot loads into her before slowing down a
bit for the twitching pleasure of feeling her vagina constricting and then
releasing my cock with each spasm racking her body.  I became aware for the
first time that her finger nails had raked my back and were now sticking
into me.

   But I stayed stiff.  This never happened, even when Simone had persuaded
me to take viagra that time.  No, I always went limp for a time after
cumming.

   But not with Eve!

   Something about the girl, perhaps because she WAS under-age, a seemingly
innocent half-child half-woman, perhaps this was what I had always wanted.
A teenage girl, small breasted, blonde, tight, smooth vagina: perhaps this
was why I had chosen Simone, a woman almost doll-like, so small but
perfectly formed.  Whatever, I was still erect and found I was slowly
moving my cock in and out as her spasms subsided.

   I turned us over without removing my cock, so she was laying on top of
me, her legs astride, her hands now clutching at my chest hair.  i tried to
kiss her, but her face was too high.  She laughed, and in that moment was
fucking me.

   "Hey!  You're good, Mr Hank: no rest eh?  Straight on with the job.  As
good as having two guys.  Better!"

   What would she know of having two guys?  At her age?  I let the thought
slide away, lost in the pleasure of this lithe young body and her smooth,
vigorous vagina gripping my cock.  I reached up two-handed and grasped her
breasts, those still conical and so-firm, so-sexy little girl tits.  I
could feel the rubbery nipples pushing into the palms of my hands.  I drew
my fingers up the cones, from the base to those pink aureoles and nipples
and tweaked each one between thumb and forefinger.  She squealed and her
hands sought my nipples, hard little grains hidden under the mat of my
chest hair.  She pinched them and twisted.  The pain and the pleasure were
equally exquisite.

   My turn to squeal, but we were fucking fast and hard again, Eve doing
ninety percent of the work as I lay back scarcely moving my hips as she
bounced up and down.  I let go her breasts and used both hands to help her
bed-athletics.

   "My tits again, Hank.  Squeeze 'em."

   Her breasts scarcely moved as her bum rose and smacked down again onto
me and certainly did not wobble.  Very tempting!  I reached up again and
grasped them, squeezing this time as she wanted.  Faster and faster, and
then she squealed, swore, and I knew she was cumming.  Her cunt gripped me
but she was still bouncing.  Then she collapsed onto me and I felt it
gripping, releasing, milking me.  It worked and I came with the most
almighty orgasm, almost painful in intensity.  How many times did I spurt?
No idea!  All I know is I finished up hugging her to me, her head on my
chest, the two of us still joined at the genitals.

   This time she allowed my cock to slip out, and it was no longer stiff.
She rolled to the side and we lay there, both on our backs in the glow of
good sex.

   Dawn had come unnoticed.

   "I'll make some coffee."

   I got up and wiped my cock on the towel.  I put yet another log in the
boiler with the thought it was fortunate I had spent a few days last summer
cutting two big wild cherries into logs, They were heavy but dry, and ideal
for a few unexpected winter days.  The small pan of water boiled fast, and
I heaved the half-full bucket of water and stood it on the boiler.  I made
the coffee strong, but opened a tin of milk.

   "Coffee.  I'm heating water and we can have a stand-up wash-down.  Not
enough for baths I'm afraid.  I'll have to get another couple of buckets
later, and hope the stream isn't frozen.  It takes an age if we have to
melt snow.  The snow's deep, but somehow I don't think it's really cold
out. Still I'll see later."

   "I need the loo!"

   Her body was every bit as sexy from the back as it had been from the
front, and amazingly I felt my cock wake up as I watched the muscles move
the three or so steps to the curtain in the corner.

   Back in the bed a few minutes later we chatted holding the hot mugs as
there was no bedside table to rest them on.

   "Hey!  You're good at it, Hank!"

   "And so are you, Eve.  How old are you?"

   I saw her hesitate and knew she was considering lying, deciding though
on the truth.

   "Thirteen, but I'll be fourteen in April."

   "Yet you know a lot about sex."

   "It's a long story...."

   "And we've got all day, at the very least.  More if there isn't a thaw."

   "Well.  My mum and dad are both very liberated.  You know, free love and
all that.  And ever since I was a babe I was often in their bed when they
had sex, so it was never a mystery to me.  Not ever!  And even when one of
dad's women or one of mum's men, or sometimes a couple joined them I was
often with them.  Everyone petted and caressed me, told me how pretty I
was, and in fact taught me how to cum long before my puberty.  Mum and dad,
and lots of their lovers used to enjoy kissing my little-girl pussy and I
was allowed to suck them as well, men and women.  Some people call it
abuse, but I loved it.

   "Fascinating!  But no fucking?"

   "Oh!  I was always begging to be fucked, and used to stick things up
there to practice, but papa always insisted no "real sex" till after my
first period.  And that was not till I was eleven: then mama took me and
got me a birth control implant and soon after that papa took my cherry.  I
hadn't even got much tits then, but from then on in if I wanted and they
agreed I could have sex with mama's lovers as well as with papa.  Is that
dreadful?"

   "No!  It obviously has been good for you, I guess."

   "I think nearly all men have a thing for young girls...."

   "I have for you, Eve.  But I'm glad you've got nice tits.  It would seem
a bit too gross if you were still flat chested."

   "I bet you would though, Hank." She giggled that disconcerting childish
giggle, "Trust me.  I know you men!"

   "So why did they send you to the Nuns for a so-called holiday?"

   "So-called.  That's the point.  My mum is a Psychology Professor, and my
dad a Sociology Prof.  At the University.  And they are writing a book on
brain-washing...  you know, communists, religions and so on.  They were
interested in what goes on at the Institute here." She laughed.  "I'm a
spy."

   "And is there brain-washing?"

   "You wouldn't believe it.  They try, and I reckon they are pretty good
at it.  Anyway I pretended it was working, a good little Christian girlie
soaking up the catechism."

   "Good acting I should think, based on what I've seen in the past few
hours.  Now that water should be warm.  We'll wash each other down and then
cook some breakfast."

   What is the most delightful?  Having a lovely teenage girl standing in a
tin bath and soaping her down with no wash-cloth, so your hands slide over
those pretty little breasts, making the rosy nipples stand, over her belly
and down to the pubic fleece where the fine hair ruffles up with the foam,
round to her hard little rounded buttocks, dimpled at the top?  And then
into the crack of her arse, her secret places, finger-dipping into her anus
and hearing the little squeak of surprise, and then round to the silky
thighs and her plump vulva, careful not to use too much soap on her
cunt-furrow itself....  don't want to spoil the scent and taste!

   Or perhaps the sensual and psychological delight of having a naked and
lovely thirteen year old girl soap your body down, her hands playing in the
matted hair of your chest and belly, seeking out hard little nipples,
soaping your limp cock and weighing your balls with slippery little hands,
and then the piece de resistance whispering a story about how Hellen of
Troy was said to make her lover Paris stiff by "doing this for him"? 
Whereupon two soapy fingers are inserted up your bum and crooked to find
your prostate gland, massage it, and giggle delightedly as her other hand
feels your cock stiffening ready for yet another bout.

   We had to share the same towel, the only one, but the cabin was now warm
enough for it not to matter much, and I sat in front of the stove while
Eve, who had noticed where the pink satin shift had come from, went to the
cupboard and rummaged through Simone's abandoned lingerie till she found
what she was looking for.  The knickers were quite full, black satin across
the bottom, but near transparent black nylon for the front panel and
crotch. Totally provocative and immodest they drew the eye to her pussy
hiding nothing of the now-puffy, swollen labia.  They decorated more than
hid.

   My cock, incredibly, was leaking precum despite the loads I had shot
earlier....

   Avoiding the end of the sofa that had broken when I was fucking Simone
so long ago, Eve bent over the still intact part of the back, legs apart.

   "Come on.  tiger!"

   I paused just a second to admire those long, slender legs, That cute
little bum with the black satin stretched across it, the hint of the shape
of her lips from the back, and then I tugged the sexy knickers down.  I had
to close her legs to get them off her, but apart again I just parted the
lips with one hand, held my cock with the other, placed it, shoved and was
in.

   She came quickly, but I knew I was a long way from cumming myself so I
settled down to a steady rhythm only speeding up for her second third, and
fourth orgasm.  My cock felt strong, like winged steel and I knew I could
go on for ever like this.

   Perhaps the series of orgasms was enough foe her!

   "You can fuck me in my arse if you want, Hank..."

   "Fuck!  Yes."

   I had not fucked a girl's arse for many years.....  Simone was not into
it and I loved her too much to insist.  That did not mean I couldn't
fantasise....  fantasies now realised.

   Her arse was hotter even than her cunt, and tighter too.  A delight. 
She must, I thought, be well used to anal sex as helped by her hand on her
clit she soon came.  Me too.  Almost painfully strong.

   ..........................

   It was two days and three nights before rain brought a thaw, and in the
afternoon we were able to get down to the village, where I handed her over
to the nuns.  We exchanged addresses and phone numbers: I wanted to kiss
her farewell but obviously could not and had to be content with a chaste
handshake.

   About a fortnight later a letter arrived from "Nicole and Max", her
parents, saying Eve's description of my physique and prowess had made them
really jealous.  They did hope I would stay with them for a few days when I
was next in Paris, hopefully during the University and School Easter break
"so we can entertain you en famille.  I think we can promise you and
exciting time." The photograph she enclosed clinched it for me....  A very
handsome.  beefy guy in speedos, arms around two petite blondes in bikinis,
one my Eve, the other could be her older sister but obviously her nympho
mother.

   Roll on Easter!