I’m not even naked and yet I’m squirming under you gaze. In a way I wish that I was naked but I’m still wearing my panties and despite my nervousness I know that a big wet patch is developing and that you can see it. You start to prepare my nipples. First standing close behind me gently caressing my breasts; your touch is so light and yet it feels like jolts of electricity shooting into my nipples. They are already erect and ignoring my desperate internal pleas for them to stay flat. My body is betraying me and my nipples are shouting “Clamp Me!” Whilst if my pussy drips anymore there will be a puddle on the floor. It seems more preparation is in order. You take a firmer hold on my breasts, pulling me tighter against your body. I can feel your rock hard cock pressing against my ass. You squeeze each breast moving your hand towards my nipples and then tug on the nipple, extending and then releasing it. Despite my anticipation of what is to come, the squeezing and pulling is almost. Two years prior to the events I’m relating here, we had made the trip in early November, arriving on a Saturday after a long flight into Denver, then a five-hour drive to the lodge. Sunday we had spent scouting the area and Monday we spent in a futile day of unsuccessful hunting. After a long day of traipsing up and down the mountains, then having a couple of medicinal brews to ease the aches and pains, I was sleeping quite soundly that night when I vaguely heard the door to the lodge open, and the proprietor came in. ‘Mr. Callahan?’ he said softly. ‘Stuart Callahan?’ ‘That’s me,’ I said groggily, and I heard the grumblings and rustling from my dad and my brother when they realized they weren’t the Mr. Callahan being paged. But they were curious about why the man was there in the middle of the night. ‘Your son is on the phone, says it’s an emergency,’ the owner said. ‘The phone is in my office. I’ll meet you there and tell him you’re on your way.’ I was fully alert and awake then,.
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