Danica Williams - 14 Erotic Stories Bundle

Don't go thinking he cheated on me because I wasn't interested in him anymore, or because I'd let myself go physically. Quite the opposite. I do rock climbing three times a week, jog on the other days, and I really, really like sex. I look great with clothing, and even better without it — but I suppose some guys are hardwired to be perverts and idiots, all at the same time.

Like Beth, I was above-average in height. I weighed around 120 pounds, but bear in mind, muscle is heavier than rolls of lard. Her hair was so dark black, it had that blue shine to it. On the day of the hike, she had it plaited, but when it was loose, it could hang low enough to cover her breasts. My family's Swedish origins were obvious: I had fairly strong facial features, and my hair was a nice strawberry blonde — not a that horrid carroty ginger color. Beth had pure brown eyes, and mine were a deep blue. Since we both did physical activities; we were in better shape than a lot of our friends. I just have to make it quite clear that I didn't include other people on this hike on purpose. I could fill a notebook with the number of guys who'd have been willing to come along with us.

That's partly why I didn't bother getting an official permit for the cabin, so her friends and classmates at the university wouldn't find out. The university has an official hiking club, with permission to use the large cabin, located halfway up the mountain. My intended sleeping spot was right at the top, away from any potential interruptions.

The morning hours seemed to drag on forever, and even though we were walking through narrow canyons most of the time, there was precious little shadow.

Luckily by noon, we'd reached the first tributary to the main river, running deep inside a high gorge. The water was waist high and icy cold. Beth was walking ahead of me, holding her backpack above her head. She lost her footing on a loose rock and stumbled forward, soaking herself form the neck down. She turned around, joking about how clumsy she was. Her nipples were erect, their outlines clearly visible under her white top.

I laughed as well, saying something back to her, but fuck knows what it was. My mind was in another place, namely the small cabin on the southern peak of the mountain we were yet to get to. I imagined how absolutely hot and exhausted we'd be by the time we arrived there. How I'd immediately run the shower and stand underneath the the luke-warm water, hastily stripping off my hiking outfit.

Of course I'd be counting on Beth being too impatient to wait for me to finish showering, and join me. The low-budget shower stall would be tiny, forcing our naked bodies together.

I pictured myself lathering up, and offering to wash her back for her. She'd be tired and open to suggestion. I could almost feel her soft, sensual skin on my fingertips. I could see my hands 'accidentally' straying around her waist and grazing her breasts, gently coming to rest on her nipples. I could hear her sigh as my hands stayed there, fondling her breasts and feeling those nipples getting harder.

By then I was soaked I soaked inside and out. I was still daydreaming, wading through the stream on auto-pilot, when Beth suddenly came to a halt.

“Get down!” she shouted. Beth let out a string of curses like a Main Road whore and pulled out her.45 Norinka 1911 pistol. She pointed it like a giant black cock of death at a troop of Cape baboons. The baboons had been trailing us, and their leader was making his descent down the canyon, followed by two dozen raucous, fast-moving primates.

She fired off three rounds, hitting small rocks in front of the leader of the troop — a gigantic male with a long mane and vicious-looking yellow teeth. He stopped immediately, and rushed back up the steep cliff, followed by his troop. With agricultural land surrounding the mountain, the baboons knew gunfire when they heard it, and farmers usually didn't waste ammunition on warning shots.

Beth slid out the magazine, pulled back the slide and caught the bullet that jumped out the chamber. She inserted the magazine and clicked the safety on, before putting the weapon back into her water-proof bag. She really could make the most mundane tasks look sexy.

Since her tour of duty in Israel, Beth is kinda anal about making sure she is armed at all times — because you never know when someone is going try and kill you with a Defy 424 stove, dropped from a rooftop. She might have finished her military service physically unscathed, but mentally… I wonder sometimes.

Even so, I was happy she was armed… this was still South Africa, and criminals ranged from harmless petty thieves, to pathological murdering rapists. You just couldn't be too careful these days, and drug-related orgies of murder and mayhem were common place, with offenders as young as 8. 'Tik' a kind of crystal meth, really has united people in this country, making addicts equally stupid and problematic.

By 2pm, we got to Disa Falls, which is this really pretty waterfall, with a fair-sized rock pool at the bottom that flows into a narrow gorge. We dumped our gear and stripped off our clothing in no time at all. Beth dived in and swam across to large, flat rock beneath the falling water. I followed her. It was mid-summer, so the torrent was quite mild, allowing us to stand on the rock without getting washed away. I stood next to Beth, while she arched her back stretched her arms out. Her large breasts had water cascading off them. Her nipples were harder than granite. I've always been a fan of nice nips, to be honest. I was fascinated with my older brother's girly mags when I was growing up. He bought stuff like Hustler's Barely Legal and Private magazines. He always had some lying around under his bed, and I started taking an interest in them when I was about 13 or so. I'd already been experimenting with rubbing myself off, and the magazines were a natural step in my sexual development, I suppose. Playing merrily alone at that age also stopped me from becoming over-eager with boys, which is why I didn't end up being becoming a teen pregnancy case.

I rinsed off the mud and grime from the long hike, and looked down at my own boobs. My 34B's were not bad at all. My nipples aren't large, but are light pink in color, and really neat. I like neat. And speaking of all things neat and tidy, Beth's pussy was delightfully well-kept. Her bald vagina was crowned by a tiny landing strip of dark pubic hair. Her clitoral hood was slightly prominent, but not huge. I've had guys describe my kitten as “cute” and that's certainly true. Like Beth's, mine was an “innie” — my labia were well hidden when I wasn't fully aroused, and my clit was small, and the same light pearly pink as my nipples.

The water was crisp and cool and we were refreshed and recharged by the cold. Beth suggested we go lie in the shade on an outcropping further down the gorge. It was a 50m swim. “First one there gets a back rub!” I shouted, and dived in. Beth followed moments later. She caught up quickly and grabbed my legs, pulling me backwards. “No rules!” she said, laughing as she overtook me. She twisted to evade me, and swam ahead. I could have overtaken her, since swimming was something I'm pretty good at, but I had my reasons to hold back.

Beth was already lying down on her back by the time I climbed out of the water. I admired her hourglass figure while I stood next her. I took my time wiping off as much water as I could from my body. “Jonathan told me you're good at massage,” said Beth. This was true, and the main reason I gave him good massages, was to teach him how to do it right, and do the same for me. I felt a twinge if hatred for him again, as I imagined him using those skills on some young, dumb, internet-addict chick.

When we still dating, Jonathan and I had a couple of little coke parties with Beth and her boyfriend. We'd spend the night getting high, then pairing off to fuck until daylight, followed by the inevitable come-down. Although there was no weird group sex, we did get quite explicit when discussing our sex lives.