The Storm Left Me Alone with a Mature Woman

My name is Adrián, and that summer I had just turned twenty-one. I studied in the city and, ever since I was a child, the only thing that truly fulfilled me was escaping to the mountains with a backpack over my shoulder. That weekend I was supposed to go up with a friend, but at the last minute he called to cancel because of a family matter. I didn’t mind going alone. I packed my backpack the night before, took the first train in the morning, and got off at the stop nearest the trail I wanted to hike.

It was an unfamiliar area to me, a mountain range in the north where I had never set foot, but I had everything loaded onto my GPS and the forecast wasn’t calling for rain. I climbed for a couple of hours with the sun still high, until the sky began to change. The clouds turned dark at a speed that didn’t make sense to me, and thunder began rumbling in the distance.

I didn’t give it much thought. I kept climbing. Fifteen minutes later, the first huge drops began to fall, and before I could react, the rain had turned into a curtain that barely let me see between the trees. I took shelter as best I could in a hollow in the rock, thinking it would pass quickly. It didn’t. I spent more than an hour crammed in there, soaked to the bone, watching the sky turn black as if evening were falling in the middle of the afternoon.

I realized I couldn’t stay. The temperature was dropping sharply, and at night, in that mountain range, it could approach freezing. I decided to go down to the road I had crossed a while earlier and look for someone who could drive me to the village. But no one drove along that road. I walked for more than two hours along the shoulder in the downpour, without seeing a single car or shelter, beginning to accept that I was going to spend the night out in the open.

Then I heard an engine. Headlights appeared through the rain, and I planted myself at the edge of the asphalt with my hands raised. The car drove past slowly, and a few yards farther on, the brake lights came on. I ran to the window.

There was a couple inside. He, behind the wheel, was an older man with graying hair and a rugged appearance. She seemed considerably younger. She was the one who had made him stop, as she confessed to me later, because I had made a good impression on her.

—Get in, boy, or you’ll freeze to death out there —she said, opening the back door for me.

I explained my situation. The man, whose name was Joaquín, told me that farther ahead the road was blocked by a landslide, that they were heading home in the opposite direction, and that with the storm raging like this, I wouldn’t get anywhere. Before I could say anything, she turned around from the front seat.

—You’re coming home with us and spending the night there. Tomorrow, if the weather clears, we’ll drive you to the village.

Her name was Marta. She told me with a calm smile, like someone taking in a lost son. She must have been around forty-two, and even wrapped in her coat, you could make out a pair of large tits and a narrow waist that no tracksuit could possibly hide. My eyes drifted to her cleavage more than once during the drive, and I think she noticed from the very first minute.

***

The house was a large two-story building, isolated in the middle of the countryside, with a gate that opened by remote control and a garage connected to the inside. There wasn’t another home in sight, only some sheds farther uphill where, I learned later, Joaquín kept his animals. They had no children. They had tried for years, without luck. Marta told me that later, too.

Joaquín went straight to light the fireplace. Marta took me to the bathroom and ordered me, with an affection that allowed no argument, to take off my soaked clothes and get under the hot water before I caught pneumonia. The shower enclosure was made of transparent glass, and I didn’t notice that detail until the door opened without warning and she came in carrying a towel and some dry clothes.

—I brought you these so you can dry off. The clothes are my husband’s, although I can already see that you two aren’t remotely the same size in certain areas.

She said it with a half-smile, and her gaze wasn’t exactly on my face. It was fixed lower down, on the cock hanging between my legs beneath the stream of hot water. She didn’t look away for even a second, and I felt myself beginning to swell in front of her, unable to do anything to stop it. I spun around toward the wall, dying of embarrassment, but the glass hid nothing and we both knew it. It took me hours to understand the joke about the size.

—Thank you very much, ma’am —I managed to say, my cock growing harder and harder against the tiles.

—No “ma’am.” Finish up in peace; I’m going to prepare dinner.

She left the towel on the sink and walked out, but not before taking one last look at me over her shoulder. I was left trembling, and not only from the cold. That woman, who was nearly twice my age and married, had just looked at my cock without the slightest attempt to hide it, as if she were appraising an object, and my body had responded before my mind had decided anything. I grabbed it for a moment under the water, squeezing it to make it go down, forcing myself to think about anything else, and even so I couldn’t get it to go completely soft.

I tried on the trousers she had left me and couldn’t even fasten them. I ended up wearing an old pair of sweatpants hanging behind the door, which were short and tight on me and outlined my package in a way that made me sigh at myself in the mirror. What a sight, I thought.

***

The three of us had dinner by the fire. Joaquín was a country man, a man of few words and a big belly, and he was undoubtedly in his late fifties. We talked about my family, my studies, and how I had ended up alone in the middle of the mountains. At one point in the conversation he mentioned that his computer was running incredibly slowly and kept freezing, and I offered to take a look at it in the morning before I left. He was delighted.

He went to bed early. Marta and I stayed behind watching the end of a movie. Every time she passed me the bowl of popcorn, her hand brushed my thigh, and I could feel her tits pressing against the arm of the sofa whenever she leaned over. When I went upstairs to the guest room, at the opposite end from their bedroom, it took me a long time to fall asleep. I tossed and turned thinking about the bathroom scene, the way she had stared at my cock, that smile. In the end I jerked off beneath the sheets, biting the pillow so I wouldn’t make a sound, imagining that it was her hand holding me.

Around three-thirty, thirst got the better of me. I went downstairs in the dark so I wouldn’t wake anyone and opened the refrigerator. I had my back to the door when the light suddenly came on, and the fright nearly made me sit down on the floor. It was Marta, leaning against the doorframe, looking at me with a grin from ear to ear.

—Fuck, you scared me —I blurted out.

—Sorry. Why are you walking around in the dark? —she laughed—. If Joaquín woke up, he’d swing a stick before asking any questions, and we’d end up in the hospital.

And then I noticed what she was wearing. A short white nightgown made of fabric so thin it showed everything through it. Her nipples showed dark beneath the gauze, hard as two stones, and her large, heavy tits moved freely inside the fabric every time she breathed. Beneath it she wore only a tiny pair of panties that revealed the bulge of her pussy and a dark patch of hair against the white cotton. And I couldn’t stop looking at her.

—I see we both had the same idea —she said, pouring herself a glass of water without taking her eyes off me—. Are you sure you’re like this because of the fright?

Her gaze dropped toward the sweatpants, where my cock was already visible from the side, thick and half-hard. She bit her lower lip.

—I’m sorry if I woke you —I stammered.

—You didn’t wake me. And stop addressing me so formally; you make me feel old. I’m Marta.

I handed her a glass, and when she leaned over to take it, her cleavage opened for an instant more than it should have, and I saw her entire tits swaying freely inside the nightgown. She slowly composed herself, enjoying the effect she was having on me, and looked down without disguising it at the bulge the sweatpants could no longer contain.

—I’d better go back to bed —she murmured— before I…

She didn’t finish the sentence. She left with a smile on her face, swaying her ass beneath the nightgown, and I went upstairs knowing that neither of us had come down just because we were thirsty. That night I didn’t manage to sleep properly either. I jerked off again thinking about her tits bouncing inside that fabric, and came in spurts over my belly, imagining myself shoving my cock all the way inside her.

***

It was still raining in the morning, and some snow had even fallen higher up. Joaquín had called the village: the road was still blocked. I would have to stay at least one more day. After breakfast, he drove off in the SUV to see how the animals had made it through the stormy night, but not before taking me to his office so I could look at the damn computer.

—Let’s see what you can do. If it can’t be fixed, we’ll throw it out. I’ll be back by lunchtime.

I turned the computer on. It took an eternity to start, and I immediately saw the problem: it was infested with Trojans, the kind you pick up by visiting certain websites. Out of curiosity, I opened the browser history, and it didn’t take much to understand how they had gotten in. I was still looking at one of those pages—a mature woman with big tits sucking a much younger guy’s cock—when Marta appeared behind me without my hearing her arrive.

—Well, well. So you like watching dirty stuff too.

—It’s not what it looks like —I defended myself—. I was checking how your husband’s computer got infected.

—Joaquín’s? —Her voice hardened for a second—. He hasn’t touched me in months, always tired, says he’s too old for this sort of thing, and it turns out he entertains himself at night watching other men fuck women my age.

I asked her not to say anything to him, at least until I had left, because I didn’t want to cause trouble in their home. She didn’t promise anything. Without me moving the mouse, the tabs kept opening on their own, one after another. In one of them, a young man fucked a mature woman from behind while her husband watched from a chair, his limp cock in his hands. Marta remained transfixed by the screen, biting her lips, and I noticed her breathing quicken beside me.

—Stop. Leave that one. It has to be fake. It’s impossible for a man to have one so… so big.

—Why does it have to be fake? —I asked, noticing the atmosphere change—. There are men like that.

She turned and looked me in the eyes, then lowered her gaze toward my crotch, where the trousers were giving me away again. My cock was rising once more, thick and heavy beneath the fabric, and she was watching it happen in real time. Her breath caught for a moment, and a small moan escaped her, which she tried to cover with a cough.

—Don’t tell me you… —she began, unable to finish.

—I didn’t say anything —I replied, holding her gaze.

—And can you tell me why such a handsome young man is still alone at your age? —she pressed, taking a step closer—. Don’t tell me you’ve never been with a woman.

I lied to her. I told her no, that I was waiting for someone special to whom I could give myself. I saw exactly what I wanted to see in her eyes: the desire to be the first, to break in that cock that had been keeping her awake for twenty-four hours.

—Maybe I have her right in front of me and neither of us has realized it —I said.

She went red to the tips of her ears. For a moment she hesitated, weighing what we were about to do. I knew, because she confessed it to me later, everything that had been going through her mind: that she had never been unfaithful, that her husband had forgotten about her, that I seemed like too much for her and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off the way my cock was outlined against my thigh.

—What if you found out whether I’m that special woman or not? —I added.

She didn’t answer with words. Although she was behind me, I heard her slide her hands beneath her skirt. She left her panties folded on the desk beside the keyboard, still warm and with a dark wet stain in the center that I didn’t miss. She pulled the wheeled chair around to face me, then squatted in front of me, knees spread and skirt hiked up to her waist, revealing for the first time her hairy pussy, already glistening between her thighs. Without taking her eyes off my face, she unbuttoned my trousers, grabbed the elastic of the sweatpants, and pulled them down in one swift motion.

My cock sprang free, hard as a rock, smacking against my stomach with a sharp slap. Marta opened her mouth wide and let out a long gasp. For several seconds she stared at it without touching, as if she couldn’t quite believe what was right in front of her face.

—My goodness, boy —she whispered when she finally brought her hand closer—. It’s twice the size of my husband’s. I can’t believe it.

She wrapped her hand around me, testing the thickness, and half my cock was still sticking out above her fist. Her eyes were shining. She began stroking it slowly, squeezing at the base and loosening around the head, tracing the thick vein running along the underside with the pad of her thumb. I sat there without moving, letting her do it, feeling my heart pounding in my chest and a large drop of fluid beginning to gather at the tip.

—It’s already leaking —she murmured, more to herself than to me—. Look at it. It hasn’t even started and it’s already leaking.

She lowered her head, stuck out her tongue, and licked that drop with the tip, very slowly, savoring it as if it were honey. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, then opened her mouth and took the entire head inside. I felt the heat of her tongue circling around it, the pressure of her lips closing over the crown, and I had to grip the arms of the chair to keep from moaning too loudly.

—Fuck, Marta… —escaped me.

She didn’t answer. She lowered her head little by little, swallowing me inch by inch while her hand caressed my balls from beneath. I reached the back of her throat and she choked for a moment, pulling back with tears in her eyes and a strand of saliva hanging from her chin down to my cock.

—I can’t fit all of you, darling —she said, laughing at herself in a hoarse voice—. Don’t be mad at me. I’ll do what I can.

She took me back into her mouth, this time at a more deliberate pace, raising and lowering her head while looking up at me with those dark eyes. I watched her tits sway inside the nightgown each time she leaned forward, her nipples stiff against the fabric. With one hand she stroked me at the base, with the other she caressed my balls, and with her mouth she sucked my head as if her life depended on it. At one point she pulled completely off and began licking the vein from base to tip, slowly, with her flat tongue, while holding my cock aimed at her face and staring into my eyes.

—If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last —I warned in a thread of a voice.

—Relax —she said, giving me one last lick and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand—. We’ll do it my way. And slowly, because you’re going to split me open.

She stood, pulled the nightgown over her head, and let it fall to the floor. She stood naked in front of me, her large tits hanging heavily over her ribs, dark nipples hard and erect, the soft belly of a grown woman, and that triangle of dark hair already slick with wetness running down to her thighs. I had never seen a body like that so close up. She straddled me on the chair, resting her knees on the wooden arms, and reached beneath me with one hand while bracing herself on my shoulder with the other. She ran the head of my cock over her pussy lips, soaking it, then positioned it at the entrance.

She lowered herself very slowly, holding her breath, stopping every inch. I felt her opening around me, tight, burning, very wet, yielding through patience as she let out short gasps through her nose.

—Oh… oh my God… it’s been years since I… —she muttered through her teeth—. Wait, wait, don’t move.

She stopped halfway, her face pressed against mine, breathing deeply. I ran my hands over her waist, her hips, over that body that had been keeping me awake for twenty-four hours, and she moved gently on top of me, testing things, making room for herself. She lowered a little farther. Then a little farther. Until her weight enveloped me completely and she felt my balls pressing against her ass. She released a deep moan against my neck, long and almost relieved.

—It’s… it’s all the way in —she whispered, unable to believe it—. My God, I have all of it inside me.

She stayed still for a moment, getting used to it, tightening and relaxing her pussy around my cock as if to make sure it was real. I felt every contraction, every pulse of her wet walls, and had to grit my teeth to keep from emptying myself right there without having moved at all. Then she began moving in slow circles, setting the pace herself, lips parted and forehead resting against mine. When I tried to follow her with my hips, she stopped and dug her nails into my shoulders.

—Not so fast —she panted—. I want it to last. Let me do it, darling, let me do it…

I did as she asked. I grabbed her tits with both hands, those large, soft tits I had stared at all night, and filled my mouth with one nipple. I sucked it hard, nibbling at it, and she let out a muffled cry against my hair. She began rising and lowering herself on my cock with more urgency, bracing her hands on the backrest behind me and arching her back to offer me her tits more fully.

—Suck me there… harder… yes, like that, like that… —she panted—. Fuck, you’re splitting me open inside, you bastard… it’s been years since I felt one this deep.

She rocked on top of me with less and less care, having forgotten caution entirely, raising my cock nearly to the tip and dropping herself all the way down in one motion. The chair creaked beneath us with a rhythmic snap, and the wet sound of her soaked pussy swallowing me whole could be heard every time. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in her own house, but short, high moans escaped her whenever I reached the deepest point. I dug my fingers into her ass, helping her come down harder, feeling her open a little more each time, feeling her pussy running between her thighs and soaking my balls and the trousers pooled around my ankles.

—Give it to me all the way, boy —she moaned in my ear, now without the slightest shame—. Wreck my pussy with that cock of yours. I’ve been waiting years for one like this, goddamn it, years…

I lowered one hand and searched for her clitoris with my thumb among the soaked hair. At the first touch she jolted so hard my cock nearly slipped out. I began rubbing it in small circles, following the rhythm of her hips, and she lost all control. Her breathing became broken, her thrusts short and desperate, and I felt her pussy beginning to close around me like a fist.

I held out as best I could, gritting my teeth, until I felt there was no room left and told her in her ear.

—Marta, I’m coming… I can’t hold it anymore, I’m coming now…

—Not yet —she ordered, speeding up and biting my neck—. Hold on a little longer, with me. With me, darling, with me… come with me inside, come inside without pulling it out, fuck, don’t pull it out…

I obeyed as best I could, teeth clenched, breathing through my nose, pressing my thumb against her clitoris faster and faster. I felt her whole body tense at once, her back arch, her breath held for one endless second, and then she exploded on top of me in a series of spasms I had never seen before, moaning long against my shoulder and biting me so she wouldn’t wake anyone. Her pussy clenched around me in powerful waves, squeezing, relaxing, squeezing, and only then did I stop fighting.

I came in spurts inside her, thrusting upward with my hips and emptying myself deep inside while she was still writhing on top of my cock. I felt every pulse leaving me, one after another, and felt her trembling above me, murmuring meaningless things, aware of how I was filling her. When at last we lay still, she collapsed against my chest, sweaty and exhausted, my cock still inside her and semen beginning to run down her thighs onto my fallen trousers.

We stayed embraced on that chair, panting, unable to fully believe what we had just done. When she stood up, my cock slid out of her pussy with a small wet pop, and a long white strand fell onto the wooden floor. She laughed softly, almost frightened by herself, and with two fingers gathered some of what was dripping between her legs and brought it to her mouth without taking her eyes off me.

Afterward, while we waited for Joaquín to return, we kissed for the first time without rushing, almost tenderly, with the taste still on her tongue. Outside, the rain still threatened. Marta told me she regretted nothing, that no one had touched her like that in years, and that the only thing that saddened her was thinking that as soon as the road cleared, I would leave. Neither of us imagined then that it wouldn’t end there.