Six or seven kilometres on steep gradients and a path no more than a sheep trail would take even the best well over the hour and took me well over two, however the table enjoyed the humour. Julie signalled her strong approval and Carol indicated her understanding as she explained that she had heard of the trail but was unsure as to where it started from.
Until five years ago I'd never lived alone. Since then I'd got used to it, the habit of having the big house set out for my sole convenience. Knowing where everything was, walking through the house and sometimes the garden naked, doing what I wanted when I wanted. Did I want this interrupted? I loved seeing the passion, enthusiasm and ambition that shone out from Carol. Also true, she did not seem the type to be spilling nail varnish on the table, fussing over the latest celebrity diet, or picture of Harry and Megan. Even so, she would inevitably be disruptive and change things. What did I have in common with some health sports freak half my age that ran up mountains for Christ's sake?
Next day aft meeting Carol Andy woke early, as normal, catching up with news on the radio in bed and then showering. Wondering through the house naked to the kitchen to fix an espresso and a slice of toast before getting dressed. He gave a small smile when wondering what a shock for Carol if she were able to see me now. Anyway I had decided, hadn't I, that I would persuade her how bad Julie's idea was, much as I'd like to help? So it was, that I nearly missed out on all of this.
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I knelt before Carol, placed my hands behind her legs and pulled her forward so her cunt was hanging over the front edge of the sofa. I could see her cunt already wet. She really got off on this exhibitionism and dirty talk and her enjoyment was my enjoyment and a change in my life that I could never have expected in my wildest, wettest dreams.
I started gently lapping on the big lips. It did not surprise me at all when Carol took hold of a handful of hair at the back of my head after a minute or two and used it to push my head hard forward into her depths. Her unsubtle message for me to be harder. As requested I tongued more vigorously and then alternating by sucking and nibbling on her large labia. Carol pushed her cunt into me. It was time to move to her accessible clit. I used my fingers first on the sides of the hood gently touching and pressing. I loved how her clit reacted, moving out, like a little creature blinking into the light. I used my tongue again, slowly building up speed. Carol wrapped her feet around my back and used her strong muscles to force me closer still. I lapped vigorously and could feel her orgasm approaching. After a moment I then bit down and she came, trembling and shaking for long moments. I lapped away swallowing the lovely additional breakfast drink and helping her ride the full orgasm.
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The fates appeared against us when we met the day after our meeting in the pub.
I thought it would help showing Carol the route on my OS Map ap on my phone. Carol started a lecture on not to trust phones because the battery may run out or the signal lost like I was some schoolboy on the mountain for the first time . My annoyance on display I retorted the map was downloaded so did not need a signal and that I had a spare battery and paper map version in my backpack. Not that we weren't going anywhere I hadn't been a hundred times before. Apart from which, I added that I happened to be a member of the mountain rescue team.
I was in fact a member of the 'b' team that rescued the Sassenachs that wondered on to Ben in their sandals and tee-shirts and got lost in the haugh. The 'A' team were the ones who did the real mountain rescuing.
Carol, was at that age when she looks all grown up sexy woman. Just occasionally you saw signs of the girl she had recently been. In her embarrassment she looked girlish, vulnerable and ready to turn and go back to J&Js house. Maybe it was that look that made me realise I was being a condescending prick. For once, I did the right thing or I'd not be fucking this wonderful woman almost every day. I reached out and said quietly, mouth close to her ear, "Hey. Sorry I was a patronising prick there. I did not mean to. It's just I get worked up about safety and the fact others have to take risks rescuing the numpties. "
I let go and she looked at me, "What are you apologising for. It's me that was rude. I feel so stupid."
"Don't. I know you're not and I shouldn't have said what I did. So let's start again. Nice weather for a walk, isn't it?" I said with a grin.
"The best. So where exactly do we pick up the trail and who was Jock?". She rejoined grinning back at me and we were good.
I explained how the original start had been built over by houses and the next part was now underneath the new village leisure complex. As we detoured around these obstacles I explained that many traditional routes used by the local folk had become romanticised by Sir Walter Scott in his books and made into stories of smuggling, secret distilleries or as Prince Charlie's secret escape path from the English. This made worse more recently by the Outlander TV series. The path we were waking was by no means the only Jocks Trail in Scotland. At the end of the day, I explained, they were just paths, sometimes taken by the locals to avoid the tolls that existed on many of the main roads and bridges.
The day was sunny with a little wind. Carol had on a long loose Scotland rugby shirt that hing over shorts with socks and running shoes. She was not the bulky person that I had feared she might be when we were in the pub. On the other hand she was not super thin like some of the track runners you see. You could see her legs were muscular, and certainly not twigs, but in no way fat. Her body similarly was neither skinny nor fat with very womanly curves in all the right places. Womanly curves included breasts that made the rugby shirt tight in this one area only. I scolded myself mildly for thinking about this woman's tits, she had to be at least 15 years younger than me -- it was not as if I was likely to ever see them was it? (Its nice to be wrong sometimes).
During the walk I coaxed a good part of Carol's life story from her. Though shy initially once I had got her speaking about her upbringing and life she became more confident in telling her story. Carol's grandad on her father's side was Pakistani and grandmother Scottish. Her Grandmother died when Carol was very young. Her mother had come over from Pakistan after an arranged marriage with her dad. She explained how she'd been shy as a girl and caught between cultures. Her father was westernised in his thinking wanting her to get the best education and follow her dreams. Most of the rest of her family thought her ambition should be to marry young, and to who she was told to marry in Pakistan. Then to bring her husband back to Scotland where he could join the family business and she could produce many children for him. This led on to how / why a city lass had taken up running. It had started as an escape and with track events and half marathons. It was not till university she started hill running.
Before I knew it we were two clicks on, almost half way around the circuit with a beautiful view of the loch. I saw Carol looking around. I gestured forward 100yds to a large rock.
"They say the local Covenanters wrote out their plans on that rock. Me, I find it makes an excellent luncheon table with the perfect view."
When we arrived at the rock I opened my backpack and pulled out sandwiches for two. Placing them on the rock and gestured Carol to take some. I saw her embarrassed, blushing again. I smiled saying, "I guessed with your running you would not be in the habit of packing lunch. Dig in, please."
Her face was quite strong, reasonably large nose, eyes that were brown set in quite large ovals, strong cheek bones. The skin a light olive. Intelligence shone out. She was not your delicate womanly type, but she looked very feminine and sexy. 'Here you go again', I told myself that day , far too young for you to lust after.
As we ate and chatted it suddenly seemed very important for Carol to explain more about why hill running was such an important thing.
"You probably think me daft, or maybe even disrespectful to a religion but I've been reading a bit about buddhism recently. The form of meditation so many of the books talk about as a first step is the one where you study all the parts of the body -- you know the one? You start thinking about your breathing, then one by one you focus on all the parts - your head, your arms, your fingers. When I read this, I wanted to yell, yes! I've known this since I first started running aged 9. It's exactly that. I feel all the parts of my body, individually, but also a oneness, a completeness when I run, which I don't feel just sitting."
At this point she lost her confidence and blushed then saying at little more than a whisper. " I've never told anyone else that. I suppose that all seems pretty stupid and girlish to you."
Looking at her, I replied, "Carol, Lass, when you talk about running then in your eyes there is a window and I can see right through to your soul so I know it's true and sincere. That passion is a gift, use it, persevere with it, or you will regret it for all your life."
After the conversation on the Covenanters Rock I knew that if Carol wanted the room she would have it. I could not possibly stand in the way of her passion, that would be just wrong. I'd just have to adjust and not walk around naked in the mornings. My thoughts were pure and unselfish. I was getting ahead of myself I realised, after all would she seriously want to house with some man so many years her senior. If she wanted to stay here she could probably find someone nearer her own age with a room.
