Helga’s romance

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Earlier that week, Helga had left her home and driven through the scenic mountain passes until, high in one pass, she had spied the sign on the side of the road that indicated her destination. Turning off the paved highway, she had slowly driven over the rutted dirt road that wound its way up to the summit of the spur in the mountains. Her destination was situated right at the top, and she could see the cabin, which perched like a sentinel beckoning her on.

She had borrowed the cabin from a friend that was overseas on a business trip. Just before her friend left, Helga had been telling her of the problems she was facing in her personal life. The problems had been impacting on her work and with the deadline growing near; she had needed some time in a quiet environment, to complete her project. Her friend had immediately offered her the hut. She could stay as long as she wished.

Helga had crossed the little timber bridge, and then slowly ascended the last kilometre of steeply rutted track, next to a stream that fell sharply down to the bridge. As she reached the crest of the hill, she had burst out of the forest onto a flat area that topped the ridge. Here, the stream had run, peacefully, its grassy banks inviting in the sunlight. Then she had arrived at the cottage that was more like a mountain hut. An area had been prepared to provide sheltered parking and easy access to the cottage.

On her way to the cabin, Helga had stopped and watched the placid stream, as it wound its way between the rocks. Birds had sung sweetly, and the restfulness of a grassy bank alongside the stream had beckoned invitingly. After her arrival, she had unloaded the car, packing her provisions in the neat kitchen area. Helga had also made up the big king-sized bed and arranged her clothes and toiletries in the various packing places.

She had walked out onto the porch and drunk in the splendour of the purple mountains and the deep green valleys. The trees, towering on the slopes below, had swayed gently in the late morning sunlight. After a light lunch, Helga had put on her trainers and had taken a brisk walk back to the banks where she had allowed the solitude and beauty to bring a measure of restfulness to her mind. The birds had not been troubled by her quiet presence and had bathed unconcernedly in the pools in the rocky bed.

Helga had not thought to bring a bathing suit on her walk, but the water in one of the deeper pools beckoned invitingly. It was too much trouble to go back to the cabin and get into her bikini. Knowing that she was isolated from prying eyes, she had quickly stripped off her shoes and socks, shirt and jeans and removed her lacy bra and panty. She had stretched; feeling decidedly wicked, as she stood in the warm sunlight. Her breasts had stood, pert and proud, whilst her nipples engorged and popped out erect. The pure seductiveness of the situation brought sexy thoughts to her mind, and her hand strayed to the tangle of hair at the apex of her womanhood.

Her legs parted and her finger slipped gently into the secret valley between the luscious lips of her femaleness.

“I’m wet,” Helga thought, “that was quick.”

Her fingers probed, feeling the nub of her clit harden as her juices flowed. A warm feeling of lassitude engulfed her and her fingers plunged deep into the slickness of her cave. Helga could imagine the hard maleness of a faceless man as he thrust his hard rod deep inside her. Her breathing quickened and she felt the onrush of an orgasm begin to seize her. Her pelvis thrust wantonly forward as her fingers danced deep inside her. She gasped, screamed and felt the plunge into sensory ecstasy grip her being. She sank down onto the grassy bank.

Soon, her breathing slowed and Helga felt that she could endure the shock of the cold mountain stream. She had selected a deeper pool and had plunged in, feeling the shock of the coldness bring freshness to her warm, sex-sated body. Helga had frolicked in the pool for some time and then clambered out. She collected her clothes and walked naked back to the cabin. She had wondered what it was like for Eve to wander around in the raw. Now, Helga knew.

A couple of days later, Helga had decided to go down to the village that she had passed on her way up to the camp. She had met the old couple that ran the General Store and had collected some fresh provisions, bread and milk.

“Hello! I’m Helga Sorenson. I’m spending time in the Oliver’s cottage,” she said. “I needed to get away from the city and do some urgent revisions on my book.”

Are you an author?” Mrs Philpot had asked.

Helga had replied in the affirmative.

“What sort of literature do you write?”

“I’m a romantic novelist,” she had replied. “I write women’s fiction.”

Helga had bought a number of articles that she needed. Collecting her purchases and provisions, Helga had turned to leave.

“Do you know that you can phone in your orders. We’ll send someone out to bring the stuff to you.”

They had given her their telephone number. When she needed something, she could ataşehir escort bayan call and they would send provisions up to her with the mountain rangers, which patrolled the areas. Helga had returned to her lair, pleased that she could get convenience shopping in such a remote area.

The days had passed in blissful solitude. Helga had achieved a lot of the work necessary to complete her project. In the evenings, she had sat on the porch of the cabin and watched the sunset redden the evening sky. With a drink in hand, she had listened to the quietness of the surrounding mountains as they settled for the night. Once the night had come, she had gone indoors and enjoyed a simple meal. The glow of the gas lamps had given a softness to the room and Helga had often wondered what she would do if a lustful male had accompanied her.

It was mainly in the evenings that her thoughts had moved away from the intricacies of the work she was involved in. During the day, Helga had been focused, and had kept to the schedule she had drawn up. But in the evenings, the demands of her body became more insistent. Each night, after her meal, she had stripped off her clothes, and cleaned away the day’s activities with a warm shower. She would towel herself dry, the roughness of the thick towel stimulating her skin.

After completing her ablutions, she had normally dived into the big bed. Tucked under the down comforter, Helga had snuggled down and allowed her mind to flow freely. Some evenings, she had felt like going onto the porch to listen to the night sounds. Because she slept in the nude, she had clambered out of bed and stood on the porch, in the moonlight glow, as naked as when she was born. On one or two occasions, she had felt deliciously wanton and she had thrust her pelvis outward, as if inviting a man to find her and plunder her.

The lust had come, uninhibited and fiery and Helga had pleasured herself. The remoteness of the cabin had allowed her to give vent to her fantasies and she had enjoyed the deep plunging of her fingers in the wanton wetness of her womanhood. Her screams, as she had reached her orgasms, had been lost in the dark solitude. Her juices had run, unashamedly, down her thighs, and her pussy hairs had become matted with her succulent secretions.

On other nights, she had lain in her bed, Her imagination had been allowed to run free and she had imagined any number of manly lovers stimulating her. As she thought of men plundering her body, her bushy triangle had become saturated with her pussy juices. Soon, her fingers had delved, deep into her cave, bringing her close to orgasm. Sometimes, when her fingers were of insufficient girth, Helga had taken her flexible plastic vibrator and slipped it into her depths. The rhythmic plunging of the imitation male weapon into her clenching cunt, had brought her to the cliff of sensation. As her peak had come, stormingly closer, she would flick the switch, allowing the battery-powered, flexible penis to curl and vibrate in her swollen depths. It never failed to bring her to a violent, stomach-clenching, climax.

After a few evenings, the weather had turned poorly. The wind rattled the shutters of the cabin high in the mountains. Helga wondered if there would be a storm, as the strong gusts battered the building, causing it to thump in sympathy with the blasts. She would not be able to indulge in exhibitionist, self-gratification outside the cottage. She realised that it would be in the warmth of the bed, where her heated mind would lead her to ecstasy. After supper, she went outside to fix one of the shutters that was banging. Helga saw the low cloud scudding across the sky.

Whilst she was outside, the telephone rang. Helga ran back in and answered the phone. It was Mrs Philpott from the General Store. She said that bad weather was expected and that it would be wise to stock up on necessities as a big blow could block the passes with snow. A list of necessities was discussed.

“Is that all you need?” Mrs Philpott had asked. “If so, I’ll make up the order and send it up with someone that may be passing your place.”

“Don’t worry,” Helga had answered, “I’ll slip down tomorrow and collect them. I need to post some material and a drive will be good.”

The night had been especially pleasurable as Helga had decided to use the Jacuzzi instead of showering. She had not used it before and was delighted with the ecstatic feelings she had been able to create by spreading her legs wide and allowing the warm, bubbly jet to massage her swollen clit. Helga had spent a good two hours reaching peak after peak of ecstasy.

The following morning, after a wild night both inside and outside the cabin, Helga had driven down to the small village. Whilst there, she had mailed her post, and shopped for her stock of necessities.

“During bad storms, the passes sometimes get blocked with the snow. You don’t have snow tires on your vehicle. Please don’t drive if the storms come,” Mr Philpott.

They had been watching the weather reports and there was escort kadıköy a possibility that Helga could be cut off from the village. They advised her to stock up on the extra things she might need as the snow sometimes prevented travel for a couple of weeks.

“You should stay in contact, by telephone,” Mrs Philpott had told Helga. “That way, we will know how you are doing. If you lose telephone contact, radio us using the two way radio receiver,” she added.

“I haven’t seen a radio receiver,” said Helga, “I wonder where it is?”

“If you can’t find it, give us a call and we’ll ask Rob to come up with one you can use,” said Mr Philpott.

“Rob?” questioned Helga, “who is he?”

“He’s our local ranger and timber man. He also acts as the Fire Warden for the forests.”


After the chat, Helga left the store and walked through the village. She saw an attractive looking man drive by in a battered 4-wheel drive vehicle. His hair was windblown and he had a really sexy pair of eyes.

“Mmm, I could make him squirm,” she thought.

After filling her vehicle with petrol, Helga had driven back through the pass, over the little wooden bridge and up the track to the cabin. The water was tumultuous as it surged under the bridge. Higher up, it was still quiet and placid. As she had driven up the pass, her mind had created different sexual encounters with the man she had seen in the village.

“I wonder where the rest of the water comes from,” she thought, as she crossed the bridge. She remembered her visit to the pools and her ecstatic interlude. She felt herself growing wet as she manoeuvred the car over the ruts and into the sheltered parking space. “I’m going to have to settle my need before I do anything else,” she told herself. “Just thinking of that hunk has made me as randy as hell.”

She opened the cabin and immediately started stripping her clothes off her body. The day was warm and the wind of the previous evening had stopped. She grabbed a pillow and her trusty vibrator and went out onto the porch. The thick animal skin rug lay on the floor and Helga couldn’t wait to bring herself to a shattering climax. She lay down on the rug and spread her legs wide. Her hair spread over the pillow she had brought out and she positioned her body to allow the warm sun to heat her vulva and the wet cave.

Her hands moved slowly across her firm breasts and she felt the nipples pop out in response to her caresses. She was sopping wet now and her juices were flowing out of her. The love juice sparkled in the sunlight as it wound its way over her pubic fur. She allowed her hand to move softly over her tummy and down to the dark triangle of curly hair. Throwing her head back, she imagined the head of the man, she had seen in the truck, seeking the slit between her spread thighs. She touched the swollen nub of her clit and imagined his tongue licking her.

Helga felt the onrush of sensation and her fingers plunged into her waiting wetness. Her pelvis thrust upward and she stroked herself anxiously, bringing the peak closer and closer. Now she needed her cunt to be filled with a hard rod. She grabbed the firm imitation prick and pushed it deep within her. The walls of her pussy convulsed with the invasion, seemingly swallowing the length of the weapon deeper and deeper. She pushed the switch and the vibrator started to buzz, as it swirled inside of her dripping femaleness. She screamed, sharp and high, her voice soaring in concert with the raging sensations that racked her deepest depths. She came, and came again, her body slicked with sweat, as she enjoyed the orgasmic peaks.

She lay, the sunlight warming her body, as the depths of the orgasm slowly retreated.

“I suppose I had better get up and bring the provisions in,” she thought. “then, I must look for the radio and see how it works.”

She stood up and walked quickly into the cabin. She draped a loose housedress over her naked body and slipped her feet into a pair of open sandals. Then Helga went outside and brought in the provisions that Mr & Mrs Philpott had suggested. Because of their warnings about the possibility of a violent storm, she also collected a large mound of firewood and stacked it on the closed back porch. If the weather got really bad, she would not have to venture out to find wood. She smiled and reminded herself that, if the storm came, and judging from the fantastic day she was enjoying that was unlikely, the firewood on the heap outside would probably be wet and difficult to light. She felt that she was well prepared for any eventuality.

Helga went indoors and searched through the cabin for the two-way radio. Although the operating instructions and the battery charger were in one cupboard, there was no sign of the instrument. I suppose I had better tell the Philpotts, she thought. Next to the operating instructions pamphlet was a note telling her how to operate the small pump that would fill the emergency generator fuel tank in the event of a power failure. She had been using the gas lamps in preference maltepe escort to the electrical lamps but realised that in a storm of any duration, she might not be able to go outside to connect the spare gas bottles.

She picked up the phone and was soon connected to the village store. Helga explained that the two-way radio seemed to be missing.

“There isn’t a two way radio here,” she had said.

Mrs Philpott had promised to ask the ranger to bring one up to the cabin. Helga also discussed the emergency generator and the gas supplies.

“Oh!” Mrs Philpott had said, “We topped up the tanks a couple of weeks ago. They’re full. And there is plenty of gas. But I would run the generator just to make sure everything is ship-shape if the blow does arrive.”

Mr Philpott had come onto the telephone and given Helga precise advice on how to start and switch off the machine.

“We’ll send the two way radio with Rob this evening,” he had said, just before he concluded his call. “If you find any problems starting the generator, he’ll help you sort it all out.”

Helga had conducted all the tests the Philpotts had recommended and found that everything was in tip-top shape. She felt quite dusty after her preparations. The weather was balmy and she decided to go down to her secret pool for a swim. Slipping off the housedress, she pulled on a revealing bikini and picked up a terry-cloth robe and her towel. She walked jauntily, down the track, her buttocks swinging seductively in the sunlight.

“I’ll probably make myself come again,” she thought. “although, I wouldn’t say no to that luscious male I saw in the village. I wonder if he knows how to really pleasure a woman with his cock?”

As she walked down the road, she allowed her hands to finger her nipples. Aren’t women lucky that they can be multi-orgasmic, she thought. Already, she was feeling lustful. She could feel the arousal cause her nipples to swell and stiffen. Her breasts fell full and sensitive. She sat down on a warm rock at the side of the stream. The water flowed slowly by, crystal clear in the warm sunlight. Reaching behind her, she pulled the tie of the bikini and allowed her breasts to spring free. She shrugged off the terry-cloth robe and lifted the biking up and off. Then she untied the bottom half of the bikini and pulled if out from between her thighs.

“I wonder if I should swim, or cum first and then have a swim?”

She laid the robe across the rocks and lay down on the robe. She moved slightly, spreading her legs wide, positioned herself so that the warm rays of the sun bathed her pussy.

“I’m already aroused,” she thought. “I’ll imagine that stud sneaking up on me, as I lay here.”

Her imagination, a necessary part of a successful writer, started to conjure up a scenario.

She imagined a man, watching her from the thickness of the forest. His cock became engorged and stood erect as he became lustful at the sight of seeing her lie, like a sacrifice, spread out on the sacrificial altar. His loincloth fell to one side of his rigid hardness, as his eyes watched her pussy lips swell with the excitement of her promised ravishment. She had been told that a man who would ravish her and, in doing so, would elevate her to the position of a goddess would take her.

She saw him in the thicket. His cock was enormous, with a hard, angry-looking tip that was already glittering with his pre-cum. He took it in his hand and rubbed it softly. It seemed to stiffen and swell even more. She saw him brace himself, ready to emerge from the forest. As she watched him through slatted eyes, pretending that she hadn’t seen him, she suddenly felt two pairs of hands, each grip an ankle and a wrist. Her eyes flew open in shock. Two other men had crept out of the forest and they were holding her down, spread-eagled on the rock.

Suddenly, the man from the forest moved. He threw off his loincloth as he strode in his magnificent nakedness across the space that separated them. His erection was huge and his cock stood up so straight that its head was hidden in the hair that arrowed down his abdomen. He stopped, towering over her. He grunted an order and the two men each started to suckle a breast, causing sensations to swirl inside her. He watched her, seeing the involuntary surges of her pelvis as the two slaves carried out the ravishment of her breasts. He fingered his erection, willing it into an even greater size.

“He’s enormous,” she thought, “I won’t be able to take all of that inside me.”

He dropped to his knees, between her spread-eagled legs.

“He’s going to thrust himself inside me,” she thought, squeezing her eyes closed to avoid seeing his penetration of her soul.

Amazingly, she felt a soft breath stir her pussy hairs. His lips settled onto her bushy vulva, kissing her nether lips in a soft seductive kiss. His hands slipped up her inner thighs until they reached her swollen lips. His fingers spread them wide and she felt the tip of his tongue touch her sensitised clit. His tongue swirled, and ecstasy flooded her being. Her body bucked with the heat of her arousal. Again his tongue swirled. And she came, her body shuddering and shaking with the height of her sensation. The two slaves continued to minister to her breasts, sucking and licking the nipples. The orgasm went on, and on, and on.

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