The Woodsman Ch. 1

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Sarah never liked the woods. At 29 she had avoided camping and hiking for most of her life and only went along when she felt fairness obligated her too. She was a city person. She loved museums and theaters and the sound of traffic. She found herself lost now, in thick undergrowth, alone sleepy and tired. She had Peter to blame for this.

She had agreed to spend the weekend camping with her boyfriend only after much begging on his part. She agreed to try it, for his sake. Once they had set up the camp things had progressed as she had expected. He spent his time showing off and she spent her time trying to keep from breaking her neck. This continued until he decided to play. He began by tickling her. She literally hated being tickled and when she broke away from him she had run. Of course he chased her, tickling being his idea of foreplay, he fully expected to catch her and have wild sex with her. What he did not calculate was that she would run so fast or so far. Sarah was lost before the tension she felt from the tickling had worn off.

Now she wondered through the woods calling his name. She had read the ranger warnings about bears and hoped her yelling might also serve to scare them away. She was wearing a pair of sandals and with each step she regretted it. Brambles and sticks cut and bruised her feet. She debated with herself whether the best course of action was to just stay put. As she pondered she looked up to see smoke. Smoke meant fire and fire meant people she reasoned. She made her way to the source of the smoke.

The cabin she found lay on the edge of the woods. As she approached she saw that from the front porch the owner had an expansive view of a meadow that was cut by a stream. This fact somehow gave her confidence that the person who owned the cabin was not a monster. This was too pretty a spot for a monsters home.

She walked to the door and knocked. The fact that her journey seemed over gave her mind freedom to feel the pain in her feet. The ached, and the small cuts and scraps burned.

The man who came to the door was huge by any standard. Sarah guessed his height at 6’5″. He had very long blond hair and a not so well trimmed beard. “Just my luck,” she thought. “I found Grizzly Adam’s.”

He waved her in and asked, “you lost?”

She tried not to role her eyes at the question and simply answered, “yes.” She wondered how else he thought she might have arrived.

“This is not the place to get lost,” he said with a faint smile and Belek travesti avoiding her eyes. “You better have a seat.”

Sarah looked around the room. She could see the entire interior from her position in the entranceway. There was a wood stove in the center of the room and a very sparse kitchen to her right. The living room/bedroom was too her left. She limped her way to the only chair in the room, and old and very warn rocker halfway between the bed and the woodstove. She looked up at the stranger and laughed. “I sure didn’t plan to get lost,” she said, “My name is Sarah.”

The tall man smiled and introduced himself as Adam. He looked at her battered feet and she noticed his face wince in sympathy. “Take those sandals off. We need to tend those feet.”

She did not hesitate to do as he suggested. Her feet ached and the straps of the sandals were digging painfully into the top of her foot. She forgot, or did not allow herself to remember, her response to having her feet played with. Many nights, as Peter moved within her, he would take her foot in his hands and attack her toes and arch with his mouth. The feeling of having her toes sucked combined with his hardness filling her guaranteed her orgasm. She did not think of this now. Her mind was occupied with the pain she felt and the uneasiness she felt from being in the presence of this huge stranger.

He took a kettle from atop the woodstove and half filled a basin. He took the basin to a sink and carefully began to add cold water from a pail that sat next to his rustic sink. She watched as carefully tested the waters temperature. Watching his great care and the meticulousness of his most simple movements made her relax and she began to feel an odd tingling rise up her spine to the back of her head. It was a pleasant feeling and knowing it was something she was watching which was causing it, she continued to watch with increasing intensity.

He made his way back to where she was sitting and pulled a small stool up in front of her. He carefully placed the basin on the floor beside him. She looked in his eyes and for the first time he smiled.

“Pretty ladies like you should not go wandering around alone in the woods,” he said paternally.

Sarah guessed his age at 30. He spoke to her in a tone that suggested that he felt superior to her. She felt her anger rise but resisted her impulse to respond. She was a guest and dependent on his good will. She resigned herself to playing the role Kemer travesti of the pretty lady and swallowing her feminist pride she simply said, “I know. I do get silly once in a while.”

“If it’s ok I am going to clean your feet up a little before you soak them,” he stated. It was not a request and before she could answer his huge hand had moved behind her calf and lifted it to his lap. He took a cloth and moistened it and began to wash away the grime that covered her right foot. He moved slowly. He washed each toe in its turn. His strong right hand held her foot as his left cleaned and massaged each toe with care. Again she found herself feeling that tingle on the back of her head but now is extended further down her back and she felt the first stirrings of arousal deep within her belly.

“Your legs are very tense,” the stranger mumbled. He worked his palms to the outside of her calf and very gradually applied pressure there. He squeezing and pumped his hands, working deeply into her sore muscle.

Sarah sighed deeply as she felt this huge stranger making love to her calf. He mine could fine no other word to describe what was happening. He was loving her and she did not yet know his name.

She lifted her free leg and placed it over his thigh. She leaned back into the rocking chair and began to rock using the leg on his thigh as her engine. She sighed and sake further into the chair. He tan shorts rising up her leg as she slid downward. She began to wonder if this giant was a giant in all ways and she wrestled with the idea of touching his crotch with her foot. She was so close now. She could do it in a way that would convince him it was accidental. She tilted her foot and let her toes graze his cock through his jeans. She nearly jumped when she felt his size. She began to stroke his hardening cock through his jeans.

His hands wondered up her legs. His calloused hands were slowly running up each inner thigh. She bowed her legs and moved her other foot to his crotch. ” I think you need to free that thing of yours. Keeping it locked away must hurt,” she whispered.

His right hand moved from her thigh and without standing he undid and unzipped his pants. Sarah watched as he pulled his cock free from its prison. It stood erect, pointing gallantly up toward his navel.

She stared at his hardness and moaned with satisfaction. “It’s so beautiful,” was all she managed to say.

Before she finished her sentence his hands had griped her shorts. Konyaaltı travesti She raised her hips and allowed him to remove them from her. He slid a hand along the fringe of her panty. Hooking his finger toward her body he slowly worked his hand toward her wet labia. He found her opening and let his finger slide between her opening lips.

Sarah’s breathing quickened and her feet returned to his cock. She gripped it between the toes of both feet and began to move them up and down over its straining length. He gripped the sides of her panties and ripped them from her. He stood up far enough to free the stool he sat on and tossed it from under him. He lay on the floor in front of her and grabbed one of her ankles. He pulled her foot back to his cock. She looked in his eyes and saw a pleading there she had never seen before. She raised her other foot and griped his cock as she had before. Looking down on him excited her. She heard herself ask, “is this what you want?”

He moaned, “Yes, please make me come. Make me come on your feet.”

She began to move her feet with purpose now. At first she was nervous about being ruff but soon she jerked him with a fire and desire that did not allow her to worry. Her own hand moved to her mound. “Watch me,” she ordered. At her command his eyes raised and he watched. The power she was feeling was enormous and this only served to heighten her desire. She used her palm at first to delay the intense pleasure she knew she would feel. She watched as pre-come began to leak from the head of his penis. As she watched she slipped two fingers into herself and began to flick at her clitoris with her thumb. She felt the silky wetness building on her fingers. She felt his hips begin to move. He was fucking the gap between her feet like a wild man.

“You’re going to come for Sarah,” she growled, “all over Sarah’s feet.”

“Yes fuck yes god I am oh fuck yes,” he bellowed.

“Your gonna mess up Sarah’s feet,” she teased. “Get em all wet and sticky with you messy ole come.”

“God yes.”

“You’ll have to lick them, fuck, god I am god, clean, coming!

“Yes Sarah, yes Sarah!” His hot come shot over her feet. She felt his heat as it splashed up over her instep. Her toes were awash in his come, and she felt herself spasm and over and over again.

When his orgasm had subsided she waved him closer. He lay directly beneath her feet now. She offered her left foot to his mouth and she watched and his tongue began to lick and lap it clean. She felt the power of the moment and began to feel something else. She began to feel the power of his submission to her. She wanted now to please him even more than she had before. She was certain that this evening would not end until they were both sated.

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