This is the story of a recent sexual experience I had, that was rather unusual because it happened with a total stranger, and while I was at work. I work as a mountain ranger, which probably sounds more exciting than it actually is, for the most part. There's an occasional dramatic rescue effort, but usually, the job involves far more mundane activities, like litter picking, monitoring the condition of paths, and, as my patch includes a popular peak in a national park, crowd control. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to tell idiots not to attempt to climb to the summit in flip-flops. The overall idea is to not have to rescue people. Still, idiots notwithstanding, it's usually good to be outdoors, and on the whole, I enjoy my job. I know I'm very lucky to be able to spend all my time in the hills I've loved ever since I was a boy, when so many of those I grew up with have had to move away to find work.
The day in question was a grey and dampish Thursday in November, and for once the route up the mountain was pretty quiet. In the early afternoon, I was making a note of the work needed to repair a damaged bit of fence, when one of the few people I'd seen so far that day appeared around a bend in the path. She was a dark-haired woman, who at fifty yards' distance looked to be a little younger than me, and with her, she had a lurcher-y sort of dog, probably a whippet cross, that was running free ahead of her. Apparently, she was one of the most common types of idiot that I encounter, the leash-averse dog owner.
Uncontrolled dogs are a problem for two reasons. Firstly, the lower slopes of the mountain have sheep grazing on them, and secondly, as the path gets narrower and steeper and rockier higher up, an unpredictable animal running loose or getting into scraps with other dogs might just trip someone over, who could potentially hurt themselves and be unable to get off the mountain unaided, in a worst case scenario. Signs in the parking areas clearly state that dogs must be kept on leads, but people either don't read them, or more likely think that their particular four-legged friend should be exempt from the rules.
The lurcher ran up to me, sniffed my boot briefly, and bounded off again. "Your dog needs to be on a leash, please," I called to the approaching owner. "There's a notice up in the car park."
"Sorry, didn't see," she called back. (They never do, apparently). "Lola! LOLA! Come here!" Evidently, Lola was the hound's name, although she appeared not to register it, and continued running around and sniffing at things. Luckily I carry the appropriate gear for this situation - a bag of dog treats in my jacket pocket.
"Will she come for a biscuit?" I asked the woman, as she drew level with me. Always best to check; don't want someone getting hysterical because I gave their precious fur-baby something it wasn't allowed to have.
"LOLA, BISCUIT!" she yelled. The B-word had the desired effect, and in short order, Lola was back, and wolfing down her treat.
"Just make sure you keep her under control, please," I admonished, as the woman clipped a leash to the dog's collar.
"Will, do, sorry, again!" They headed off up the track.
...
Later, at just after four, when the winter darkness was already starting to close in, I had arrived back at the car park where I intended to wait for the last visitors to leave so that I could put down the barrier to keep out the more unsavory sorts who would otherwise congregate there after nightfall. Just then, a familiar dog careered past me, followed by shouts of, "Lola! LOLA!!"
"Biscuit!" I called, and back Lola came, skidding to a halt in front of me. I fed her the treat and fussed her while I waited for her owner.
"Sorry, I didn't think it mattered this close to the car park," her owner said when she caught up. The leash was in her hand.
"Come over to my Land Rover, please." I tried to sound stern. I intended to give the woman a brief lecture, and a leaflet from a bundle of them I had in the Landy, about the importance of being a responsible park visitor.
"You're not going to fine me, are you?" she asked, sounding worried, as we approached the vehicle.
"No, we don't issue fines! But maybe I should spank you, instead!"
Oh no. Why the fuck had I said that? The idea had just appeared in my mind, unbidden, and the words had popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Sorry, sorry, terrible joke," I said, holding up my hands in a pacifying gesture. I'd have to give the lecture a miss, now. I'd be lucky if she didn't make a complaint.
The woman said, quietly, "Maybe you should."
Had I heard that right? I had expected her to tell me I was a depraved pervert, or, at best, laugh. She must be winding me up. "Pardon?"
"I think you should," she repeated. Her eyes, previously downcast, met mine. Something in them, some glint, told me she wasn't joking.
I regarded her properly for the first time. They say that people often look like their dogs, and it was certainly true in this case. Both woman and lurcher had a long nose, big, dark, expressive eyes, and a nervous, skittish air about them, as though they might up and bolt at the slightest provocation. On the evidence so far, both were similarly torn between the desire to be good girls, and the urge to run wild. A slightly submissive demeanor and a flash of mischief in liquid eyes, in the dog, were merely endearing qualities. In the woman, though...
Surreal as the situation had suddenly become, I felt my cock harden. It had been a long time since I'd spanked anyone. It had been a long time since I'd anythinged anyone, come to that. I'd been single for the previous eight months, and the couple of dates I'd been on in that time hadn't gotten further than the restaurant before fizzling out for lack of chemistry.
Torn between sudden lust, and fears for my job if I was caught molesting a member of the public (even if she was willing), I quickly ran through some mental risk assessments. I knew for a fact that the CCTV system that watched over this car park wasn't working, as I'd reported the fault myself this morning. It would be several days, at least, before the park authority got around to fixing it. A couple of cars had just left, and now there was only one car still parked, presumably hers. I could lock the barrier to stop anyone else coming in and disturbing us. I made my decision.
"Yes, I will have to spank you," I replied, trying to sound authoritative rather than excited, and scarcely believing I was saying the words. What the hell was I about to do?
I secured the barrier, promising that I would open it again afterwards to let her out, and she put Lola in her car. Then I opened the passenger door of the Land Rover. "Bend over the seat," I instructed.
She leaned into the vehicle, pushing her bum out, and pulling down her trousers as she did so, revealing pink floral cotton knickers. This was getting better and better! I'd only thought to spank her through her clothes, not really daring to hope for more. I wondered if I was perhaps having a particularly vivid, lucid dream. If so, it was certainly one of my unconscious mind's better efforts. Having got this far, I decided to see how much further I could push things.
"You'll have to take your knickers down, as well," I said, and amazingly she did, without so much as a whimper of protest, exposing full, firm, rounded buttocks, and a flash of pussy. It certainly seemed to be my lucky day. I tugged at the waistband of my trousers, trying to create more space for my, by now, extremely firm erection, and positioned myself to her left, so that my right hand could make the most effective contact with her delightfully wide and convex bottom.
I raised my arm and brought my hand down for the first time, landing with a SMACK on her right cheek, causing a satisfying wobble of flesh, and a small "Oo!" sound from the woman. Still, I was aware that I had pulled back a little, for that first blow. I brought my hand down again, harder.
SMACK!
"Ow!"
I stepped back ever so slightly so that the next couple of blows would land on her left buttock. Having embraced the situation, I wanted to make the most of this rather unusual opportunity and guessed that by alternating between sides, she'd be able to tolerate being spanked for longer.
SMACK! SMACK! went my hand on her left buttock, eliciting another "Oo!"
Right side again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I took a moment to admire my handiwork. Her right cheek was now looking gratifyingly pink. Time to make the left cheek match.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I swear I didn't mean to do this, but on the last smack, that landed really more on the top of her thigh than her buttock, my hand strayed a little further between her legs than I'd intended. My fingertips brushed her pussy. "Sorry!" I pulled my hand away and stepped back quickly. She had encouraged me to spank her, and had let me do it on her bare backside, but I didn't know whether that was as far as this went. "You can go now, if you want to."
She looked over her shoulder at me, that naughty glint appearing in her eyes again. "I've been careless and I need to be punished," she said. She turned her head back to face away from me, and pushed out her arse. Clearly the kinky little minx wanted more.
SMACK! SMACK! My hand strayed again, deliberately this time. My fingers found wetness, and her gorgeous bottom wiggled slightly to bring more of her pussy into contact with my digits. She let out a little "Mmm" sound.
SMACK! Stroke. SMACK! Stroke. SMACK! Stroke, my fingers lingering longer on her labia each time. She widened her stance slightly so that her pussy lips parted. Oh, she wanted it alright.
SMACK! Fingertips entering her now. She was practically dripping, she was so wet. With my left hand, I managed to undo my trousers and release my straining cock. I started to rub myself. SMACK! I pushed my index and middle finger inside her, and my thumb rubbed her arsehole.
"You're a very naughty girl," I said. "One who can't be trusted to keep her dog under control." My fingers worked in and out of her pussy while my other hand pumped my swollen cock. "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."
"Mmmm, oh, yes!"