Four Days of Voyeurism in the Mountains

Clara texted me on a Thursday night, when I was already half asleep and thinking about canceling every plan for the long weekend so I could stay home. Her message was direct, no beating around the bush, just like her when she decided to play hard.

—I know you've been looking at me for a while as if you wanted to tear my clothes off. I have four days free and a cabin in the mountains. If you dare, come pick me up tomorrow at eight.

I read it three times before answering. Not because I was hesitating, but because I wanted to weigh every word and not sound too desperate. In the end I wrote the only thing possible.

—I'll pick you up. But I don't promise to behave.

Her reply came instantly.

—I'm not asking you to.

The next morning I brought the freshly washed car, a full tank, and a hard cock before I had even started the engine. When I honked outside her building, she appeared on the sidewalk with a small suitcase and a slow smile, the kind that already unzipped your pants without touching you. She was wearing a thin white sleeveless T-shirt, clinging to her body in the morning heat. Her nipples and the outline of her strapless bra showed beneath it. The short black leather skirt hugged her hips as if it had been painted onto her skin.

She got into the car, kissed the corner of my mouth, and left her suitcase in the back.

—Drive —she said—. I want to see whether accepting your invitation was really worth it.

Clara was over thirty, knew exactly the effect she had, and enjoyed provoking it. She didn't pretend to be innocent. That, more than her body, was what drove me crazy.

We took the mountain road with the top down and the sun already beating hard. At first we talked about anything and everything: the traffic, the lake, the isolated cabin she'd rented, the food we'd brought. But neither of us was really there for the scenery. I couldn't stop looking at her legs, spread just enough, the curve of her thighs, the pink edge of fabric showing whenever the wind lifted her skirt.

She noticed and did nothing to stop me. Quite the opposite. She shifted in her seat, crossed one leg, then uncrossed it, and let the skirt ride up a little higher.

—If you keep looking at me like that, you're going to drive off the road —she murmured.

—If you keep showing me so much, that'll be your fault.

She smiled without looking at me. Then she rested one hand on my thigh and left it there, heavy, hot, and calm. That gesture gave me permission to do the same. I slid my right hand over her left leg and felt the tension beneath her skin. She didn't stop me. I moved upward slowly, enjoying every inch, every tiny reaction, every deeper breath that escaped her despite herself.

When my fingers reached the edge of her thong, she spread her legs a little farther. I didn't have to ask her anything. I moved the fabric aside with my fingertips and found heat, wetness, and soft hair. No perfect waxing, no magazine pose. An adult pussy, natural and wet before I'd barely touched it. That turned me on even more.

—Fuck —I murmured—. You're already soaked.

—Then stop teasing and put them in —she said through clenched teeth.

I did it suddenly, two fingers inside, firm, feeling her open to receive me. Clara let out a hoarse moan and gripped the seat. I kept driving with my other hand, feeling her pussy squeeze my fingers as I fucked her again and again, deeper each time. Her thong was so wet it clung to her lips. She lifted her hips to help me pull it down, and I tugged the side strap until I pulled the garment off one of her legs.

Just then a truck slowly overtook us. The driver turned his head and saw Clara with her skirt up, her legs spread, and my hand buried between them. He didn't look away for several seconds. She blushed, but she didn't close her legs. Instead, she grabbed my wrist and forced me to put in a third finger.

—Let him look —she said—. Let him see what you're doing to me.

The road continued unfolding through curves and pines, and we entered a game that grew dirtier and dirtier. Whenever a truck or a tall car came near, Clara pulled her skirt higher or angled her legs to display herself better. I pulled out my soaked fingers and showed them to anyone who managed to look. More than one person honked. More than one slowed down. She bit her lip, aroused by those strange looks, by the risk, by knowing she was being watched.

—Masturbate —I ordered.

She said nothing. She lowered her hand, spread the lips of her pussy, and began rubbing her clit with short, fast, merciless strokes. I watched the road in bursts and her body the rest of the time. Her thighs trembled. I saw her put two fingers where mine had been, pull them out gleaming, then go back in, spreading herself wider just as another truck drew level with us.

—That's it —I told her—. Show yourself properly.

The driver honked twice. Clara let out a nervous laugh that turned into a moan when I pressed my palm against her pussy and began rubbing her hard. Her orgasm came right there, in motion, with the air striking our faces and a stranger watching from a huge cab. She arched her back, clenched her teeth, and came all over my fingers, soaking my hand completely.

—Fuck... fuck... —she repeated, breathing in ragged gasps.

She sucked two of my fingers without taking her eyes off me, and the sight nearly made me lose control of the car.

***

The cabin stood in isolation beside a narrow, dark lake surrounded by tall trees. It was exactly what she'd promised: silence, heat, clean water, and no other house nearby. The moment we went in, we dropped the bags on the floor. Clara looked out the window toward the lake, then turned back to me.

—There really isn't anyone around?

—Not at this distance. But if you go out onto the dock, anyone in a boat could see you.

That made her smile.

—Perfect.

She took off her shirt without ceremony, then her bra, and her tits hung free, heavy and alive, their nipples already hard. Then she slipped off her skirt and stood completely naked in front of me, hiding nothing. Her body needed no adornment. Her pussy was still swollen and shiny from what we'd done on the road, damp hair clinging together in places, her legs firm, her skin flushed from the journey. I stripped too, and she lowered her gaze to my cock with a satisfied smirk.

—Now I believe you really wanted me —she said.

I didn't answer. I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hungrily, pushing her toward the cabin's rear door, the one opening directly onto the lake. We went outside naked in the sun, walked across the hot wood of the little dock, and entered the water. It was cool, but not enough to kill our arousal. Clara waded in slowly, sighing, until the water reached her waist. I sank down and swam toward her underwater.

My hands found her thighs before she saw me. She clung to my shoulders when I spread her legs in the water and ran my tongue over her pussy from below, swallowing a mixture of lake water, sweat, and her salty taste. The contact undid her at once. She moaned, staring at the woods with her head thrown back, while I licked between her legs and dug my fingers into her hips to hold her open.

Her clitoris was sensitive from the orgasm in the car, and every time I brushed it she gave a little jump and pressed herself harder against me. I started slowly, licking her lips, pushing my tongue into her opening, pulling it out and going back in, until I felt her begin to tremble again. Then I increased the pressure. Firm tongue, harder sucks, one hand moving up to put two fingers inside her while the other supported her ass.

—Don't stop —she gasped—. Don't stop, you bastard.

I didn't stop. I fucked her pussy with my fingers underwater while eating her out with my mouth. Clara came, pressing my head against her pelvis. Her orgasm emerged in a dirty, drawn-out moan, completely shameless. Some of it was lost in the lake and some filled my mouth. When I lifted my head, her breathing was broken and she wore a smile of pure lust.

We kissed immediately. She tasted her own flavor on my tongue and grew even more aroused when she noticed it. Then she moved slowly down my torso with her mouth, pushing me until the water reached just below my chest, and knelt in the shallows. My cock had been hard long before, heavy and tense, and Clara took it in one hand as if she'd spent the whole morning thinking about that moment.

First she licked the tip. Then she ran her tongue over its entire length, slowly, looking up at me from below. I brushed her wet hair away from her face and saw in her eyes the gleam of someone about to do something outrageous because she wanted to, not because she was asked. She opened her mouth and swallowed me in one motion as far as she could.

—That's it... yes... —escaped me.

She set the pace with her head, sinking down and rising while one hand massaged my balls beneath the water. The sensation was brutal: the warm wetness of her mouth, the contrast of the cold lake around us, the emptiness whenever she came off, and the jolt of pleasure when she went back down. She began sucking me harder, sealing her lips just behind the head and letting saliva run down the shaft. Every plunge of her mouth brought me closer to the edge.

I warned her, but she didn't pull away.

—I'm going to come.

Clara answered by taking me deeper. I felt the pull in my lower belly and came into her mouth in several spurts, holding her hair as I released my cum and she swallowed what she could. When she came up for air, she coughed a little, wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and laughed.

—That was too much —she said—. And I still want more.

***

We rested for a while on the shore, lying on the towels and letting the sun dry our skin. I stroked her belly and mound without rushing anything. Her eyes were closed, but every so often she opened her legs a little wider, as if she were still offering herself even in her sleep.

When evening began to fall, we went back to the cabin. I asked her not to get dressed, and she didn't object. We prepared something simple for dinner, both of us naked and barefoot on the wooden floor. The atmosphere was both obscene and domestic. She cut bread and tomatoes while I opened wine and, from time to time, passed behind her to squeeze a tit, bite her shoulder, or give her ass a sharp smack.

The third slap made her moan for real.

—Harder —she said without turning around.

I gave her another, louder one. Her skin reddened instantly. Clara planted both hands on the counter and spread her feet. Her pussy, between her legs, was already shining again.

—Look what you do to me just with that —she murmured.

I moved behind her, spread her cheeks, and saw wetness running along her inner thigh. I ran two fingers through her cleft, from her ass to her clitoris, then put them in her mouth. She sucked them without taking her eyes off the window, as if the thought that someone might see her from outside aroused her.

—Want to play at being watched again? —I asked.

—I want you to fuck me where people can see —she replied.

I took her to the living-room picture window, the largest in the cabin. Outside, night was beginning to fall, but with the interior lights on, anyone on the lake or the path could see us if they came close. That risk alone was enough to make her tremble.

I put her back against the glass, lifted one leg, and sucked one of her tits while my hand worked her pussy. Then I turned her around sharply, leaving her with her palms against the glass, her ass pointed toward me and the darkness outside. I stroked her entrance with the tip of my cock several times just to make her beg.

—Put it in already.

I entered with one thrust. Clara screamed, and her voice bounced off the glass. Her pussy swallowed me tight and hot, still sensitive, and I began fucking her eagerly from the first second. No tenderness. No pause. Every blow made the window vibrate. I grabbed one tit with one hand and her neck with the other, not to choke her but to hold her still while I buried myself inside her.

—This is what you wanted, isn't it? —I said in her ear—. Open, naked, and visible to anyone.

—Yes... yes... don't stop.

I slapped her ass between thrusts. Then again. After that I put two fingers in her mouth for her to suck while I kept fucking her from behind. Clara drooled, moaned, and left patches of fog on the glass. Her eyes were unfocused and blazing, completely surrendered to the thrill of being exposed.

I changed the angle and began pounding her harder, faster. Her pussy sounded wet and obscene throughout the room. I saw her move one hand down to rub her clitoris while I penetrated her, and that made me speed up even more. She was masturbating while letting me fuck her against the window, offering the spectacle to the night.

—Can you imagine someone out there watching us? —I whispered.

That was enough. She came again with a violent shudder, pressing her forehead against the glass. Her pussy squeezed my cock and nearly made me finish right then, but I held back. I pulled her away from the window and took her to the sofa.

I laid her on her back, spread her legs wide, and knelt between them to look at her swollen, open pussy, slick with pure arousal. I spat on it, then lowered my face to lick her again. Now she had a different taste: thicker, stronger, mixed with our sweat and the warm smell of the house. Clara grabbed my hair and guided me exactly where she needed me. I sucked her clitoris while putting in two fingers first, then three, opening her as I listened to her lose her breath.

When I saw she was about to come again, I rose and positioned her at the edge of the sofa. She lifted her legs on her own and held behind her knees. That position left her completely open. I entered while watching my cock disappear inside her, slowly at first, all the way in, and then began thrusting with a steady rhythm that gradually grew faster.

Her tits bounced with every blow. She grabbed them, pinched her nipples, and looked at me as if she wanted me to break her.

—Harder.

I gave it to her. The room filled with the wet sound of penetration and her increasingly unrestrained moans. She asked me to insult her, and I did. I told her how obscene she looked, how much she loved being watched, how wet she was from displaying herself. Every word turned her on more. Then she asked for something else.

—Turn me around and touch my ass.

I put her on all fours on the sofa, spread her cheeks, and rubbed my thumb in circles over her anus without entering. Her body answered with a visible shiver. With my other hand I kept fucking her pussy with two fingers while my cock rested for a second, hard and gleaming, against my belly.

—Only if you tell me yes —I warned.

—Yes. But slowly.

I took lubricant from the suitcase and coated my finger. I started with one, very slowly, letting her get used to it. Clara breathed deeply and pushed back, asking for more without words. Once she was relaxed, I withdrew my finger, replaced it with my cock in her pussy, and continued penetrating her while my thumb returned to circle her anus, stimulating it just enough to drive her crazy.

That combination destroyed her. She came and complained at the same time, saying my name, asking me never to pull out. I gripped her waist and fucked her hard from behind, deep, feeling her spasms along every inch of my cock. The intensity swept us both away.

I came inside her in a long release, holding her against me, buried to the hilt. Clara was still trembling when I pulled out, and some of the semen ran along her inner thigh. I put two fingers inside to push it back in, and she let out an exhausted, satisfied, almost animal moan.

***

The first night ended with both of us naked in bed, stuck together with sweat, staring at the wooden ceiling. I thought we had no strength left, but with Clara that was never certain.

At dawn on the second day, she woke me by riding me slowly, with the window open and gray light coming through the curtains. Her hair was tousled, her tits swaying above me, and her expression was pure vice.

—I didn't want to waste the morning —she said.

I grabbed her hips and let her ride at her own pace. At first she rose and fell on my cock with her back straight, enjoying every brush, then she leaned forward, faster and needier. I squeezed her ass, spread her cheeks, and watched her swallow me again and again. She leaned down until she sucked one of my imaginary tits on my chest amid laughter and moans, and that gesture, as dirty as it was playful, made me harden even more.

On the third day we bathed naked on the dock, even though we knew there was another couple in a boat at the far end of the lake. They didn't come closer, but they didn't look away either. Clara let me kiss her, touch her between the legs, and put her on her knees on the wet wood to fuck her while she faced the water, as the others pretended to admire the scenery. I knew they could see us. So did she. That thrill had become part of the trip, perhaps the most addictive part.

On the last night, before heading back, we ate little and fucked a lot. In the kitchen, bent over the table. In the shower, with hot water falling over our backs. In bed, slowly this time, as if we wanted to stretch out the hours. Every encounter was different, but they all had the same center: her pleasure in being watched, my desire to display her, and that brutal trust that had settled between us without asking permission.

When we returned to the city on the fourth day, Clara put on another short skirt. She wasn't wearing underwear. I knew because, before getting out of the car in front of her building, she took my hand and buried it between her legs one last time.

She was wet again.

—This doesn't stay in the mountains —she told me.

She left my fingers soaked, made me smell them, and kissed me calmly, as if we hadn't just spent four entire days exhausting ourselves with desire.

I watched her walk away without looking back, knowing perfectly well that she'd call me again. And that when she did, it wouldn't be to talk about the scenery.