Fishing in the Rockies (MF) 1/1

By Chaz Thain

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WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
----------------------------------------------------------------

	I have always enjoyed hiking, camping, hunting and fishing --
with others or on my own.
	That's why I happened to be camping alone one day a couple of
years ago at a secluded site on the northwest edge of Rocky
Mountain National Park. In fact, I was taking advantage of the
remoteness of the area since fishermen rarely hiked in to the
high valley. The valley's pristine mountain creek was strung with
beaver ponds that were teeming with unwary trout.
	For two days I didn't see another soul and I was almost bored
with catching and releasing fish after fish. The afternoon of the
second day I was casting lazily in a pool about a mile upstream
from my camp when I was startled by the appearance of a girl in
hiking clothes on the opposite bank.
	Making her way closer through the thick willows, the girl called
to me in accented English.
	"My friend is injured! Can you come and help us?"
	I left my fishing gear in a pile and found a place to cross the
stream. The young woman met me and, with brief thanks, began
leading me upstream alongside the creek. I was thankful myself
that I was in good shape because she set a grueling pace. We
marched for a steep, rocky mile, pausing only once to introduce
ourselves and gulp water from my canteen.
	My companion was Dagmar "from West Germany" and she briefly
related that she was backpacking with two friends and one had
badly injured an ankle. Meanwhile I couldn't help noticing that
Dagmar had a pretty oval face. She also had thick, wavy brunette
hair falling below her shoulders, well-muscled legs and, under
her shorts, one of the shapliest butts I'd ever seen.
	Finally we arrived at a spot near the tree line where her
friends, two German girls, were waiting. They were Erma, a tall
and thin dishwater blonde with a serious look and a badly
sprained ankle, and Angela, a short, black-haired cherub with an
olive complexion and full, pouty lips.
	On examining Erma's ankle, my volunteer EMT training told me she
needed care but not hospitalization. I wrapped it but knew Erma
needed a couple of days of rest with the ankle iced and elevated.
My campsite was the nearest spot with good protection from the
powerful mountain thunderstorms, so we headed there.
	It was downhill all the way, but carrying Erma's pack while
helping her made it killing work. The path was narrow, uneven and
so steep in spots that I had to carry Erma on my back. We were
all exhausted and dripping sweat by the time we reached my camp.
Luckily I had some codeine in my first aid kit because Erma was
in considerable pain. I pitched their tent while Angie and Dagmar
made Erma comfortable and moved her inside. Soon she was dozing
in a sleeping bag with her leg propped on a pack.
	My muscles ached, I was sticky with sweat and my clothes were
dirty and clammy. The girls were in no better shape. I told them
I was going for a bath in the stream even though it was icy cold.
In a minute, they eagerly decided to join me and we headed for
the stream loaded with towels and fresh clothes.
	Once there, Dagmar and Angie surprised me by immediately
whipping off their sweaters, shorts, underwear and hiking boots.
Since they weren't intimidated by my presence I followed suit and
soon the three of us were wading gingerly into the waist-deep
stream of crystal-clear Rocky Mountain ice water. Let me assure
you I had no fear of getting an erection even though both girls
looked good enough to eat.
	Dagmar had creamy, pale skin contrasted by a very abundant,
curly patch of dark brown hair between her legs. She also had a
small brown clump of hair under each arm and dark hair on her
lower legs. Her gently swaying breasts were C-cup sized with
prominent nipples surrounded by dark-colored areolae the size of
50-cent pieces. Her tits pointed slightly outward. I imagined her
hidden pussy lips pursing against the icy water as I watched her
areolae contract and grow almost purple with cold. I ached to run
my hand over the goose bumps covering her beautifully rounded
ass.
	Angie's fine olive skin was also covered with goose bumps, but
the hair between her legs and under her arms was finer and
straighter than Dagmar's, and glossy black. Naked, I could see
that her thighs and buttocks were thick and muscular without a
trace of excess fat. Her waist seemed slender by contrast, while
her chest and shoulders matched athletic legs. Her wonderful,
D-cup breasts hung down slightly under their own weight and and
quivered prettily when she took a step on the rocky streambed.
Angie's nipples were about the same size as Dagmar's, but her
dark chocolate-colored areolae were more than twice as big even
while shrunken with cold.
	Despite the effects of the bitterly cold water, my libido raged
inside me at the sight of these two beauties hurriedly soaping
and washing themselves. Was there some reason they seemed to pay
special attention to their pussies and asses, or were they just
being fastidious after days of camping? In the brief glances I
allowed myself, I couldn't tell. But I clearly saw Angie spread
her legs wide to give her soapy fingers access to her hidden
asshole, and Dagmar used both hands for a long time on her
thickly covered pussy. The girls seemed to glance at my body
naturally as we passed the soap and shampoo, without showing any
carnal interest. Certainly there was little to see as my cock and
balls had shrunk almost to invisibility.
	Finished with our icewater bath, the three of us hurriedly left
the stream, toweled off and pulled on fresh clothes. We were
shivering as we trotted up the path to camp and my hands shook so
much I had a hard time putting a match to the fire I'd set.
Finally, the fire, several cups of hot tea and a simple meal
helped us stop quaking inside our sweaters and jackets. Dagmar
woke a groggy Erma and gave her a cup of strong, sugary tea.
	After the dishes were washed I suffered a couple of hours of
torturous restraint. I wanted both of these young beauties but
hard as I looked I saw no sign that either had any special
interest in me. Our talk around the campfire was somewhat limited
by the language barrier. Dagmar, a school teacher, spoke good
English, while Angie, an office worker, spoke only a few phrases
and understood a few more. Still, our conversation was lively.
	The three girls, in their 20s, had been traveling in the States
for nearly six months, making their way gradually from the East
Coast to the West. They had loved most of what they saw although
some things clearly baffled them. Dagmar noted critically that
American men seemed to be interested mainly in drinking, sex,
rock music and cars with no thought for art, politics or ideas.
Before I could mount a defense, Angie laughingly said in German
that most young German men were the same.
	Then it was time for bed and I reluctantly zipped myself into my
small tent alone. For a while I heard the girls talking in German
as they rearranged things in their tent. I briefly considered
just walking to their tent and asking them to invite me in for
the night, but I reluctantly discarded the idea as impossible. I
was on the point of masturbating to relieve my arousal when the
long, strenuous day caught up with me and I dozed off.
	Some time later I was awakened by the sound of the zipper as my
tent door was quietly opened from the outside. A dark figure
appeared in the opening and called my name softly. I answered and
she gave me her hand to guide her inside. It was Dagmar, carrying
her pad and sleeping bag.
	"Will you let me join you for the night?" she said. Still a bit
sleepy, I eagerly agreed. She thanked me with a lingering
open-mouthed kiss that left no doubt about her intentions. Too
hurried to try zipping our bags together, we put mine below us
and hers on top.
	"I think you will be good to me," she said, snuggling close for
warmth. I needed no more invitation, but I decided on the slow
approach. I spent the next half hour kissing, caressing and
holding Dagmar as she gradually got more and more aroused. Many
times I let my open hands float down her back and sides, over her
ass and hips, then down her thighs. When my fingertips finally
brushed the crotch of her panties, it was damp with pussy juice
and her hips jerked convulsively upward, seeking more contact.
When I finally took off her loose undershirt she responded by
pulling off my T-shirt, eagerly licking my nipples and running
her fingers through my chest hair.
	"Please," she whispered urgently. "Move faster."
	But I had no intention of moving faster. I was enjoying the
gradually building intensity. I slowly kissed her lips, her face,
her ears, her neck. I licked her breasts everywhere but her
nipples, and she gasped when I accidentally brushed my cheek
against their hardness. I kissed my way down her stomach to her
mound, then retreated. Finally I attacked her nipples with my
tongue, flicking them quickly back and forth, at first softly
then harder, from different directions. I enjoyed playing with
her stiff little nubs in my mouth. Her moans of pleasure filled
my ears and my little tent. She held my head in her hands and I
could tell when my tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot
because her fingers tightened in my hair.
	My left hand was buried in the thick hair at the top of Dagmar's
neck while the fingertips of my right hand caressed her writhing
legs from ankles to hips, concentrating on the sensitive skin
behind her knees and on the insides of her thighs. Her occasional
moans became louder and more frequent, almost grunts, as she
began rhythmically thrusting her hips upward. I judged she was
ready.
	I shifted myself until I lay full-length beside Dagmar. Her lips
sought my mouth and she attacked me with a kiss, urgently
thrusting her tongue inside my mouth, crushing my head to hers
with both hands. I let my right-hand fingertips drift one more
time across the taut, wet fabric covering her crotch, then drove
my hand beneath the waistband of her panties. Lifting the fabric
away from her dripping pussy, my middle finger drove down through
her tangled, sopping hair to find her slick, swollen labia.
Pulling her lips from mine, Dagmar gasped and thrust her hips
upward. Quickly my finger traced her pussy lips down, found her
opening, then sank inside her as far and as fast as I could
thrust.
	She cried out loud and gripped my arm with both hands, trying to
force my hand into contact with her burning clitoris. Instead, I
avoided touching her pearl and thrust my middle finger inside her
half-a-dozen times, gently stretching her vagina each time I
slowly pulled my finger out. Then I added my second finger to the
first and thrust into her several times before pulling out
altogether. Dagmar moaned with frustrated lust.
	"Please," she murmured urgently in my ear. "Please!"
	With my wet middle finger, I traced one outer labia up, circled
her clitoris, then traced the other labia down gently to rim her
opening. Next I put my fingertip firmly against the upper edge of
her opening, then drew it up her slit towards her clitoris, her
inner lips parting around my finger like soil around a plow. But
I avoided her swollen pearl again despite the quick upward thrust
of her hips.
	This time I pulled my hand entirely out of her panties and I saw
her questioning eyes open to watch me as I put it to my face and
slowly sucked her juices off my fingers. Watching intently, she
panted deeply three times, her taut breasts and their hardened
nipples heaving upward together in the dim light. One of her
hands squeezed my dick so hard it hurt.
	Then I thrust my hand back into her panties. This time I quickly
found her clitoris with my middle finger and began to flick it
fast, but so lightly I could barely feel the wet little bump.
Dagmar's breathing quickly accelerated until it was a hoarse roar
in my ears and the tension froze her leg and stomach muscles
solid. Cresting hard, she held her breath entirely for three
heartbeats then began a deep-throated groan that opened into a
sharp, high cry of completion. She raised her hips entirely off
the ground and held them suspended, jerking slightly, until her
orgasm had run its course.
	My hand stayed locked on her dripping pussy as my finger drove
her over her orgasm and down the other side. My finger didn't
still until she began to squirm her hips away from it, becoming
too sensitive to be touched. Then I cupped her soaking mound with
my hand and pulled her naked shoulders against me with my free
arm as she began the long trip down. She shuddered occasionally
as the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her.
	By this time I was eager to plunge my aching hard-on into
Dagmar's dripping pussy. I was pulling my shorts off with one
hand and holding her with the other when I stopped in surprise.
The tent door had again begun unzipping from the outside. When it
was fully open, another dark figure groped her way inside.
Despite the shadowy light, I could tell it was Angie.
	She said something in German that started Dagmar giggling as she
translated.
	"Angie says she couldn't stand listening to me any longer and
had to come to get something for herself," Dagmar said, obviously
amused.
	Now my little tent was truly filled beyond capacity and, while I
had no intention of kicking Angie out, I also had no idea where
she could go. Dagmar was pressed full length against one wall, I
was sitting hunched nearly double at the back end of the tent and
Angie was kneeling at the front, closing the zippered door. I
only had a second to think about it before Angie impatiently
pulled her t-shirt over her head, her large breasts bobbing, then
lay down and put her feet in my lap as she struggled to push her
panties down her legs.
	I thought it was only reasonable to help, so I pulled her
panties off and found the crotch -- like Dagmar's -- soaked
through with her juices. Now, I truly enjoy eating pussy so it
seemed natural to pull Angie's legs towards me, guiding each of
them over a shoulder. I planted a kiss on the inside of one thigh
and was rewarded by a quick sigh. Though my dick was aching for
release, I settled in to tease Angie to an orgasm, kissing my way
slowly towards her hole.
	Then Angie erupted tersely in German and Dagmar translated.
	"Angie says you should not be slow, but very fast with her,"
Dagmar said.
	I readily pushed her thighs a little further apart and, planted
my open mouth over the gaping lips of Angie's pussy. The hair
guarding her gash was much finer than Dagmar's and my tongue
parted it easily, immediately finding her finger-thick and juicy
outer labia. I sucked her pussy lips, pulling them into my mouth,
caressing them with my tongue. She cried out, arching her back
and pushing her pussy up against my open mouth. I rewarded her by
darting my tongue down and firmly rimming her opening. Angie
began to pant loudly for air and dug both hands into my hair, as
if she were trying to push my head inside her.
	Three times I stuck my tongue in her hole, then drew it slowly
up her slit to circle her clitoris, tasting her tart, flowing
juices along the way. She ripped out a sentence in German that
needed no translation. "Stop teasing and finish me, you bastard!"
is pretty easy to understand.
	I covered her clit with my mouth and began the same fast, light
flicking motion with my tongue tip that I'd used on Dagmar with
my finger. The result was the same, yet wonderfully different. In
less than a minute Angie began to come, her whole body convulsing
time after time. Her muscular thighs locked themselves on either
side of my neck while her hands tried to push my head even harder
against her crotch. She came forever, pumping her hips up against
my mouth while pussy juice flooded from her gash down her ass
crack. Her deep, drawn-out climax groans filled the tent and
echoed among the trees outside. Then, as her orgasm had clearly
crested and was beginning to slacken, I thrust two fingers hard
and without warning inside her -- one into her gaping pussy and
the other into her wonderfully tight and juicy-slick asshole.
	Angie exploded. It was like riding a bucking bronc. I had to
fight to keep my mouth on her pussy, my tongue lashing her
through her renewed climax. Her heels drummed against my lower
back. I could see her head with its cloud of black hair whipping
back and forth on my sleeping bag and her big, firm tits quivered
again and again from the shock waves rippling through her body. I
pulled my fingers nearly out of her, then shoved them in again,
and again, and again. I don't know German, but it sounded like
she was screaming, "Yes! Oh, god, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
	It seemed like an hour before the rock-hard muscles in Angie's
thighs and stomach began to relax. I slowly let my fingers slip
out of the warm grip of her pussy and the even warmer grip of her
ass. I clearly felt her muscular asshole grasp my finger several
times as I gradually pulled it out. Angie was murmuring softly,
almost inaudibly, to herself, one arm across her substantial
breasts while the other hand caressed my hair.
	I wasn't given much time to rest on my laurels. As I gently
maneuvered my head out of Angie's swollen, soaking crotch, I
could feel Dagmar's hard nipples against my arm. She was
attacking my right ear with her tongue. One hand grasped my dick
so hard it was almost painful, while the other seemed to be
everywhere at once, roaming over my body. I turned my head to
kiss Dagmar and she got even wilder, alternately sucking hard on
my tongue and kissing all over my face though it was coated from
eyebrows to chin with Angie's pussy juices.
	Dagmar would not be denied. She roughly guided me onto my back
beside Angie and straddled me. Her left arm supported her weight
while her right hand found my dick and guided it between her
swollen pussy lips. A half-second later she dropped her entire
weight downward, eagerly impaling herself with a cry to the full
length of my penis. Her pussy felt wonderfully tight, wet and
warm. She must have enjoyed the sensation, too, because she
paused a minute, her weight forcing her pussy lips against the
base of my dick.
	Then, with both hands planted on my chest, Dagmar began
rhythmically lifting herself halfway off my dick then dropping
back down to encase me inside her. Each time her sopping pussy
plunged to the base of my dick, she gave a little grunt of
pleasure and her panting filled the tent. It was all I could do
to stop myself from coming instantly. I held back with
difficulty, watching the concentration on her face and the lively
bouncing of her breasts as she fucked me. I was dimly aware of
Angie lying beside me, watching us sleepily with one hand between
her legs and the other lightly stroking my arm.
	I reached up and cupped the considerable weight of Dagmar's
tits, hefting and caressing them for a few strokes, then took her
thimble-sized nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She
groaned but kept going, her head now thrown forward so her hair
hid her face. Each time she lifted herself off me she nearly
pulled her nipples from my fingers, stretching them tautly
downward.
	Dagmar gradually speeded up her rhythm and I heard a low,
growling sound in her chest. A faint, wet slap was audible each
time she drove herself down on my dick. Then she muttered
something harshly in German and was no longer lifting herself up
but rocking quickly back and forth, focusing her weight on the
point where her clitoris met the base of my dick. Her fingernails
dug into my chest and she was coming, coming hard, with short
hoarse cries of completion that went on and on. The minute change
in sensation drove me out of control and soon I was trying to
thrust up into her, my throbbing penis spurting what felt like a
quart of hot semen deep into her muscular belly.
	Finally, she collapsed forward onto me, drained of strength. I
could feel her rock-hard nipples as her breasts flattened against
my chest and her ragged breathing roared in my ear. Her slick
pussy still grasped my dick firmly, squeezing it occasionally as
her inner muscles continued to convulse. It was a long time
before my sticky dick became soft enough to finally slip from her
gash.
	Angie joined us then, snuggling close, taking my right arm to
wrap around her shoulders and tucking sleeping bags around our
three naked and wet bodies. She said something in German which
started Dagmar chuckling, then laughing out loud, and Angie began
laughing hard, too. It took Dagmar awhile to answer when I asked
what was so funny.
	"Angie ... Angie is saying you are a very bad boy," she said.
Then I had a good laugh, too.
	We slept that night, exhausted, in a tangled heap of arms, legs,
asses, pussies and breasts. Angie woke me at some point in the
night by gently stroking my dick. Too tired for anything else, I
fingered her to a quick, intense orgasm while giving her long,
lazy tongue kisses. On the other side of me, I don't think Dagmar
even woke up. Around dawn they each gave me a quick kiss and left
the tent while I continued to doze for awhile. Giggling like a
couple of 10-year-olds, they had breakfast ready when I got up.
	I spent the next four days teaching Angie and Dagmar the
mysteries of fly fishing and taking care of Erma's ankle. Dagmar
proved to be a natural, catching nearly as many fish as I did.
Angie had a frustrating time at first but then developed into a
very competent fisherman. I sometimes just sat on a sunny slope
overlooking the scene while they used my gear to fish in nearby
ponds. The girls took over the cooking after sampling my
primitive efforts and we shared the other chores.
	As for the nights, Angie and Dagmar arranged a system between
them. The first night after the wild episode in my tent, nothing
was said but Angie simply moved her sleeping bag and pad in with
me at bedtime. Dagmar stayed in the other tent and took care of
Erma. The next night, it was Dagmar who moved in with me. Then
Angie on the third night and Dagmar again on the last.
	Erma, whose ankle quickly improved, seemed to find the whole
situation laughable and never showed any interest in
participating. I didn't care. Erma would ordinarily have been
very attractive to me -- with her thin, good looks; long,
tapering legs; and small, round breasts. But I didn't have the
time or energy for any interest in her. Angie and Dagmar each
wanted a lot of fucking and weren't shy about demanding their
share. There was simply nothing of me left over for Erma.
	Angie was the more demanding, eager to try a different position
the minute the idea popped into her head. She enjoyed it but was
essentially impatient with foreplay. As soon as she felt her
orgasm building, she wanted to come, and quickly. Angie wanted to
be fucked hard and fast, egging me on if I slowed by rocking to a
faster rhythm or digging her short nails into my ass. She paid
little attention to my body, other than to pull me into the
position she wanted and guide my dick eagerly into the gap
between her muscular thighs. She climaxed readily and noisily
under my fingers or tongue but clearly get the most enjoyment out
of a deep, fast, pounding fuck. She had, at most, two orgasms in
one session, then quickly fell asleep.
	If Angie was a glutton when it came to sex, Dagmar was a
gourmet, and much more my style. She obviously savored my slow,
teasing foreplay with tongue and fingers, and had the patience to
endure a long, intense fucking with several fast and slow
intervals. She was capable of three or four orgasms in a two-hour
session of lovemaking. Dagmar liked to get on top and slowly,
teasingly, rock herself to a climax while looking into my eyes in
the subdued light. She liked a lot of cuddling, caressing and
kissing afterwards and loved to have her pussy eaten. She wasn't
shy about giving head, but clearly preferred me to come inside
her.
	Finally, it was time for me to return to my home and work.
Although we made love the night before, Dagmar woke me at 4 a.m.
on the last day for a long, intense session of lovemaking. Her
goal seemed to be keeping my dick hard and deep inside her as
long as possible. Later the girls hiked to the trail head with me
and accepted my offer of a ride to Estes Park. There, Erma and
Angie pecked me on the lips and Dagmar left me with a deep,
powerful kiss and a soulful look in the eyes before we
reluctantly turned away.
	A year later I got a mysterious envelope marked "personal"
addressed to me at work and postmarked from Germany. Inside were
a letter and photo. I immediately recognized the vibrant,
stylishly dressed young woman in the picture as Dagmar, looking
as lovely as ever. That was when I remembered standing beside a
mountain stream and telling her about the company where I worked.
She was holding a cute little tow-headed baby in that possessive
way mothers have. The letter told the whole story.
	"Dear R---, I'm sure you'll be surprised when you look at my
photo and see the souvenir I brought back from my trip to
America. I didn't plan to get a baby, but when I found I was
pregnant I felt nothing but happiness. I wanted to keep my little
boy as soon as I found out he was coming. Someday I will marry
and have other children but for now I am selfish to have this one
for me alone. Please understand I have wonderful feelings for you
and our few days together and that memory and my little Gunther
are all I want from you. He's very smart and strong and, as you
can see, beautiful. Angie and Erma are his aunties. We think of
you often with warmth and love. Thank you. Dagmar
	There was no return address.


----------------------------------------------------------------
WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
----------------------------------------------------------------