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Myself and My
Daughter Shouldn’t Have Aughta
My
daughter and I had this wonderfully brilliant idea to go on a ski trip as part
of our Christmas vacation together. Nine glorious days of becoming healthy on
the slopes by day and shit-faced in the chalet by night. This was Sandra’s
first year away at college and I wanted to make sure that she couldn’t get away
from me during her time off. Hey, moms really miss their kids! I could’ve
picked a local getaway but that would’ve been too easy and inexpensive. No, I had
to choose an ultra-exclusive resort in the middle of nowhere and in another
state.
As the days ticked
down to our bacchanal on the slopes, my out-of-the-way choice of locations was
sounding better and better. The weatherman was predicting a veritable avalanche
of snowfall right after we arrived. Why it sounded absolutely paradisiacal. There
were two very excited girlie hearts jumping into a rental car at the airport
that Saturday afternoon. It was a 4 hour drive to the hotel which meant we
would just get there in time for happy hour. Yes, this was going to be a
vacation we would remember for the rest of our lives... And we didn’t know the
half of it!
It
wasn’t until we are well into the mountains that we realized that the
weatherman’s fortuitous prediction was a tad on the inaccurate side. Mother Nature
alas, had no intention of abiding by his precipitory prognostications. Snow in
startling amounts began to descend upon us and the winding road as we made our
way ever further from civilization. By the time we realized our predicament, it
was too late to turn around and increasingly impossible to continue on. Night
was falling and our only path to salvation (and exotic mixed drinks) was
quickly turning unnavigable.
Eventually,
the inevitable occurred and we became hopelessly stuck in the snow bank.
Needless to say, there was no phone reception or food and we had lacked the
forethought to pack a six-day supply of emergency firewood in the trunk.
“Now
don’t panic,” I instructed my daughter as I panicked enough for the both of us.
“The important thing is that we don’t leave the car.”
“How
long was this snowstorm going to last?” Sandra inquired, looking whiter than
her surroundings.
“Oh,
not even a whole week,” I lightly tossed off.
“We’re going to die out here, aren’t we?” She
began to cry.
“Oh
don’t do that sweetie, we don’t have much bottled water with us either.”
No
matter my protestations, she was right. By the time they found us, we’d be long
dead and frozen to the consistency of fish sticks. Something had to be done,
but what?!
An
eternity past in that car and our extremities had dropped to the optimum
temperature for light beer. Things did not look good. I just was about to offer
up my body to my daughter as a series of life preserving dinner entrées, should
it come to that, when a small light appeared in the distance through the trees.
What was it? A house? A wintertime mirage designed to lure us out of the safety
of our vehicle to our doom? We both sat and stared long and hard at the tiny
illumination through the blinding snow and tried to construct a prudent and
sensible course of action.
“Well,
I say we risk it,” declared my foolhardy daughter.
“I
agree,” replied her very frightened and irrational mother.
There
were two very heavy girlie hearts jumping out of the rental car that we picked
up at the airport. And off into the darkened frosty woods we trod, not knowing
whether we’d ever return to our shipwrecked Nissan Altima.
The
light turned out to be a lot further away than we’d imagined and our arduous
trek was all uphill. Every once in a while it would disappear completely in a
blinding wall of white but we kept our calm and our eye on the 60 watt prize. By
the time we’d reached our destination, we were completely exhausted but also
overwhelmingly relieved. The faint light turned out to be emanating from a
rundown cabin with thin wisps of smoke rising up from a somewhat dilapidated
chimney. While it wasn’t exactly the Dorchester Hotel, considering our dire
situation, it was practically a palace made of gold and ivory.
Sandra
and I practically galloped through the knee-high snow to the front door of this
humble abode. Our feet were numb and our hands ached from the cold and I
wrapped on the unpainted door with the urgency of Judy Garland trying to enter
the Emerald City
“Leave
this place!” he bellowed from the other side of the glass.
“Please
sir, our car has broken down and we have nowhere else to turn,” I hid my fear
and pleaded.
“Leave
this place!” He reiterated, banging the barrel of his rifle against the window.
This
was obviously not going very well. My daughter was looking particularly ashen.
There was no other option, it was either convince this man-monster to allow us
inside or we would surely perish.
“If
I could just talk to you sir, in private. We need so very little and I would
gladly reward your kindness with all I have at my disposal.”
“What
the hell does that mean?” asked my very concerned daughter.
I
took a deep breath and confided in her, “Sometimes sweetie, there comes a time
when you have to take one for the team.”
“Mom
no!”
I
knocked on the door once more, and called through the window, “If you would
just let me inside for a few seconds, I’m sure I could convince you to help
us.”
There
was a long cold pause as he menacingly stared in our direction. I tried to look
as pretty as I could, considering I was half frozen to death. Finally, after
what seemed like an eternity, he jerked his head to one side, indicating that I
should come to the door.
Once
inside, I made my case quickly and sincerely as I unzipped my parka to
favorably exhibit what was on offer.
“Please
sir, we are desperate. If you will allow us to enter your cabin I will gladly
submit to any and all requests you have of me.” I stuck out my chest to him
like a flirtatious runway model, “I will deny you nothing. I would only ask
that my daughter remains untouched.”
He
stared at me like an angry muskox for a few seconds, then grabbed my left tit
and gave his squeeze. My initial reaction, of course, was to recoil in horror
or slap his face but I did nothing. I allowed him to roam freely about my
breasts in the hopes that he would agree to my proposal. I even attempted to
smile.
To
tell the truth, I was petrified. He was 6 foot four or five and smelled like he
hadn’t had a bath since the Merrimack
went down. His long hair and beard only added to the mutant hillbilly vibe he
had going. After several minutes of nipple tweaking and rough boob jiggling, he
growled semi-agreeably and allowed me to let my daughter into the shack. The dilapidated
decor may have looked like shit, but the warmth from the fire was the most
beautiful thing in the entire universe.
“You
want food?” he inquired in a tone that betrayed the fact that he really didn’t
want a feed us.
It’d
been a long time since we’d eaten, and even then it was airport food! I nodded
my head hopefully.
“Take
off your clothes,” he forcefully requested.
“Mom!”
“No, it’s alright
sweetie. We’ve come to an agreement.” I began to undo the buttons on my jersey.
Within a few seconds I was down to my underwear. Sandra stared on in horror as
I remove my bra and panties and Mountain Man leered at me like a psychotic
Wookie. When I was fully naked, he threw
two unwashed bowls roughly down onto a door converted into a table. We were
served some kind of meat stew. I didn’t ask and didn’t want to know from what sort
of animal it was derived. While we were chowing down, our host stood behind me
and molested my chest nonstop. Had this guy ever seen a pair of tits before? He
kept pulling my nipples up and down like they were toggle switches. It was
completely humiliating, creepy and sick. Needless to say, my daughter was inconsolably
horrified…but kept right on eating. It’s not often you’re forced to sit and
watch your mother being felt up by an orangutan over a bowl of suspect stew.
As bad as this
was, I knew far worse was yet to come but I was determined to endure whatever heinous
acts of depravity awaited me. There was no telling how long the storm was going
the last. It was not only my life I’d think about the life of my daughter. Any
price was worth paying for that.
Following the
meal, we were allowed to sit by the fire for about half an hour while Mr.
Hermit puttered around noisily. This was to be our only moment of comfort that
evening. Upon finishing up his noisy after-dinner chores, he was ready for
dessert. Unzipping his torn and filthy jeans, he pulled out his penis and waved
it in my face. Poor Sandra looked away as I took him into my mouth.
Surprisingly, he played with my hair very gently as I sucked his cock. He let
out these low growling noises as I applied my oral wares. It sounded like I was
giving a blowjob to a bear. I could also hear my daughter sniffling behind me. She
was obviously very upset by all of this.
Five minutes into
my throat stuffing ordeal, he pulled himself out of me and told us to both
stand up. He proceeded to tie our hands together and then tie those ropes to
the iron railings on his bed. Both Sandra and I both knew what was coming next.
I watched our host removed his tattered clothes, exposing the strong muscular
frame beneath. Once he was naked, he tapped my knee to let me know that it was
time to spread my legs for him. I so hoped that he’d take a modicum of care and
not attempt to just jam it inside me with his first bestial thrust. He climbed
on top of me and while I wouldn’t call it standard foreplay, he did make an admirable
attempt to grease the wheel before starting up the engine. Mountain Man licked and slobbered all over my breasts and wandered about my labia and clitoris with his
callused hands but never attempted kiss me. Smelling his breath, perhaps this
was just an act of mercy. Bizarrely, suffering through that raw, brutal
victimization turned the flesh between my legs into a veritable puddle. Let’s
just say, when he pushed the head of his penis against my vaginal opening, it
met with very little resistance. Blush! Within seconds, his man meat had disappeared
into me, right up to the very hilt. He grabbed my left tit roughly and began to
hump me with breathtaking gusto. His animalistic noises, unnuanced fucking and
the ropes that bound my hands were starting to have an unexpected effect. I
glanced over my daughter who was tied to the bed next to us. The whole scene
was like something out of a Paul Verhoeven film. I was thoroughly ashamed as I
felt my cunt start to tighten around the shaft of his knob. What would Sandra
think, hearing her mother coming like some saloon-room whore? I clenched my
teeth as the climactic spasms started to rise up inside me in a desperate
attempt to muffle any orgasmic screams or moans I might involuntarily emit. It
was impossible to suppress all sound because the contractions rippling through
my solar plexus were just too severe. I hoped that my daughter would my mistake
these base utterances of concupiscent ecstasy for sounds of pain or anger.
Alas, they were anything but. My efforts to suppress the unwanted orgasm only
ramped up its intensity. Big squirts of my cum juice soaked the mattress around
us. In the meantime, Mountain Man was slamming away inside me so ferociously, I
knew he was about to burst. And boy did he ever! One would think a hermit
locked away in a cabin in the woods would jerk-off incessantly and his sperm
would be in short supply but the sheer amount of creamy spunk that poured out
of him could have filled the medium-sized paint can. It was hard to imagine how
there was enough room to store it all in just those two nuts hanging down
between his legs. I was quite glad in the end that he decided to fuck me.
Trying to swallow that much goo would’ve choked Paris Hilton.
The next couple of
days, it never stopped snowing and our lives as indebted prisoners took on a sex
slave-like routine. All privacy and dignity were denied. Mountain Man dressed
and undressed us, bathed us, and even stood over us as we went to the bathroom.
At meal times, he fed us and then would he fuck me. And this was after every
meal! Three times a day! On the upside, I was getting much better at disguising
my massive orgasms. After lunch on Christmas Eve, he decided to mix it up a
little and flipped me over on the mattress. Yikes! I knew where this was going…
Or should I say I knew where he was going?
Thinking quickly, I instructed Sandra to get the hand cream out of my
purse and slather it around my sphincter and all over Wolfman’s schlong. I knew
that lubricating his Wang would be uncomfortable for her but hey, I was just
about to take one up the fudge tunnel! This was actually the first time I’d
ever been sodomized. Somehow, being tied to a bed and fucked up the ass by a
stranger seemed to proper initiation to this infamous sexual practice. Having a
good size cock rammed up my colon was not as torturous as I imagined it would
be though it did get a mite chaotic back there just before he came. After he
finished and I was waiting for my butthole to stop throbbing, my daughter got
down on her knees with some water and soap and slowly washed his penis and
balls clean. I had the disturbing feeling that Sandra had gone from being
horrified by witnessing her mother being continually ravished in front of her
to jealous.
What to do? I
mean, she was 18, if she wanted to have sex with someone of her own free will
was I to stand in her way? That evening after dinner, when Mountain Man dangled
his pant wad in my face, I took it in my hand and pointed it at my daughter.
“Would you like to
do this?” I asked.
Sandra blushed
brightly at first but then smiled and nodded her head. She took his boner out
of my hand and wrapped her young pink lips around its swollen head. The way she
licked and slurped on his wang, it made me a tad suspicious that she’d engaged
in this kind of activity many times before. After a couple of minutes of expert
sucking, my daughter returned him to my mouth while she nibbled on his balls
and tongued his scrotum. From then on it was a sexual free-for-all. The three
of us ended up in bed together with me feverishly licking his asshole while he
fucked the life out of my daughter. Everybody came at least three times and
then we fell asleep in a big pile of spent naked flesh.
When we awoke in
the morning, Mountain Man had made breakfast, put up a little Christmas tree
and wrapped two presents. I was actually touched. Plus, our jolly lumberjack
had actually had a shower and was clean and presentable. Considering the bizarre
circumstances, it was turning out to be a glorious Christmas day. The snow was
even letting up a little. We jumped out of bed and the three of us enjoyed some
eggs and toast and then Sandra and I got to open our goodie boxes.
Inside we found
the cutest little wood carved figurines. Why, it must’ve taken him all night to
have carved those for us. What a really sweet thing to do. Even though he had
fucked me up the ass, I was beginning to have quite warm’s feelings for him.
My daughter
administered our host’s morning blow job while I admired my charming rustic gift.
It was as I was putting it back into its wrapping for safekeeping that a
receipt fluttered to the floor.
“Are you coming
over mom? (slurp, slurp) I think it’s about time for bed!”
I was staring at
that little piece of paper and trying to figure out what it all meant when the
date on it caught my eye. That absolute Fucker!”
“Take that cock out
of your mouth, he bought these at a store today!”
“What!?”
“Get off your
knees and get dressed, we’re getting out of here.”
Before you could
blink, we had our clothes back on and had stormed out of Mountain Man’s cabin.
With the improved visibility, it only took is about 10 minutes to find the path
through the woods of lead down to a 7-Eleven and a gas station! Within the hour
we had chains on our tires and were back on our way to the ski lodge.
As we renewed our journey,
my daughter and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Our hermit Santa
had figuratively and literally screwed us both.
When we finally
got to our destination, we drank the bar dry, picked up the cutest guy we could
find and spent the rest of our stay in the hotel room.
Christmas may only
come once a year but my daughter and I can do it all night long!
The End
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