When this happened, I was 20 years old, a bright and strapping young lad who was quite a man when it came to being alone in the wilderness, and quite a boy when it came to other things. But I did have the libido of a 20 year old man, which had been bottled up by the exhaustion of my trip. And over the past three days, he had been unable to gain respite because of the presence of the caretaker of the cabin, a woman named Annie.
Annie was a European woman who had somehow inherited a small fortune, or at least enough money to buy this cabin in an isolated valley high in the Rockies. It was small, had a generator and water pump, and she left it open for the few hikers who were sturdy enough to make it this far. She was an older woman, in her late 40s, but still quite attractive, in a viking way. In the hot summer, she had been wearing short white sundresses, and I had been spending the last few days trying to be gentlemanly and not to look at her cleavage. But this morning, I found myself very hard, and my hand found its way to , my penis, and I started stroking, imagining her yesterday, when I had seen her at night in her dressing gown, her nipples poking up against the fabric. I had meant to just give myself a few idle strokes, but as hard as I was, my hand just moved of its own will, and being 20 and deprived, it only took me a minute or two to shudder and come, a heavy load spurting out all over the blankets.
Which turned me back to reality... I would leave today, and then she would find what I had done to her blankets. I knew I should do something about it, but in my post-orgasmic daze I was too satiated to move. I also didn't think, being so young and horny, that my rustling of the old squeaky metal bed would have been loud enough to wake anyone...and alert them to what I was doing.
When the door opened, my eyes were still closed, and I opened them quickly, to see Annie waiting there in one of her little white dresses, holding a tray with toast and orange juice on it.
"Hello," she said, in her distinctive accent. "I thought you would need an early breakfast for your day ahead." I started to rearrange myself with great fluster, since my cock was still poking out underneath the blankets, and I just hope the wet spot hadn't soaked through. She sat down next to me, and I tried to eat toast and drink orange juice with just my left hand, my right one still being quite sticky. She told me that she would miss me, what a good guest I had been, and I agreed and said the same, and wondered what she would say if she knew what I had just done. (Naive me!)
And then she said, "For good luck," in her cute little foreign accent, and leaned down and kissed me, and then sat back up. My head was looking directly at her full breasts underneath the dress, and her sly smiling face above it.
I took the initiative in my own way, and said, "Again," although my heart was pounding in my throat. She leaned down and we kissed, and we kissed again, and before I knew it, she was draped across me. Luckily, I was too aroused to stop and think about what had happened. I had been fantasizing about Annie for the past few days, but in my young mind, older women's sexuality --- and my own --- were both kind of abstract qualities.