Oriana of the Dolomites

Throughout the day as he hiked alone through a sparsely populated foothills of north-eastern Italy's Dolomites, Kyle Stockwell had watched the storm clouds building. They'd bring only rain and wind fortunately, because it was midsummer although not the baking midsummer he was used to.

Well he could shelter in a forest thicket or under a rock overhang facing away from the direction of the advancing storm clouds.

Kyle was tossing up which option when he saw a lightening flash and a distant rumble of thunder. He figured the third option was the one to take and that was to head down out of the forest and seek shelter with a kind farming family. The Italians he'd met so far had been cheerful and pleasant.

The clouds collided with the mountains, or at least rose on an up draught and began dumping rain. By the time Kyle stumbled to a farmhouse door he was drenched and the wind was beginning to howl.

He knocked.

Damn no answer.

He knocked and yelled and the door rattled and opened slightly.

The female addressed him in Italian and he replied in English that he was a lone tramper seeking shelter.

"My husband, hees not 'ere."

"I don't need help, I just want coffee and a blanket to be wrapped in while my clothes dry. I can sleep in the barn."

"Our cows not worry but our pigs maybe worry and geese very angry."

"Well I'll sleep in the woodshed."

"What ees a woodshed?"

Kyle signed. They had difficulty enough with communication so it would not be wise to try to explain what was a woodshed.

She opened the door wide and he had an impression of long flowing black hair, a pretty face and the thick cape being pushed forward quite some way by what lay beneath.

He was about to crack she was good enough to eat but thought with her nervousness because her husband wasn't home attempted humor might not be a good idea. Instead his sniffed loudly and said, "Coffee?"

"Yes coffee," she smiled and reached out and hauled him in and said. "You be wet, very wet. I don't want you sick."

Oh really, then what did she have planned for him? The American architectural student yawned, allowing her to pull him forward and failed to notice the low beam across the door until his forehead was about to crash into it. She was yelling something that probably was Italian for please mind your head, but too late.

Kyle regained consciousness and found himself on the kitchen floor in front of an open fire. She must have dragged him there.

Jesus and undressed him. He could see his clothes drying on a rack beside the fireplace.

She lay beside him on a rug, dressed and with no blanket over her, very much asleep.

He reached up and pulled her cape apart to get a more unrestricted view of her breasts. Her long skirt was up around her knees. He ignored his headache and attempted to lift the skirt but her legs had it pinned to the floor.

Kyle looked back at her to find her staring at him.

"You awake. Should you look at me like that?"

"No," he said and smiled.

"So why do you take... take um liberties?"

"Because you are very attractive."

She obviously knew what he was on about because she blushed.

"How ees the 'ed?"

"It hurts. It needs some kisses."

Initially she looked disbelievingly and then looked at him primly.

Kyle tried to tempt her. "Come on I won't bite."

She hesitated and said, "What part of me do you wanta bite?"

Nothing tried, nothing gained. He pointed to her groin.

"Eets too early for that. You play here," she said, unbuttoned the front button of her cape to expose a loose bra. She freed a sizeable breast and leaned forward to kiss his bruised forehead, dragging the freed breast across until all Kyle had to do was to lift the heavy breast and the nipple was right at his mouth. He falling unconscious apparently hadn't distressed her. Perhaps her husband was a heavy drinker?

Kyle eyed the plump breast in the dim light. So exquisite, so sexy. He didn't rush thinking she'd already shown she was taking it slowly although willing to move incrementally forward. A fuck could be on offer. He wanted to ask would her husband come home soon but then thought it best not to remind her she had a husband. It's possible in moments like this that her focus would not be on family.

Her kisses rained lightly on his forehead and he sucked the nipple and felt it swell in his mouth and she did nothing to inhibit her groan.

He lip teased the nipple and then felt her take his hand and pulled it between the tops of her thighs.

Eh? So where was the coffee and food? He'd like to eat. But when you are at least 3000 ft up in sub-alpine terrain in a storm, feeling warm and wanted and with no where else to go, the best thing to do was to please the hostess.

"Pull eet off," he said pulling out the front of her substantial panties and attempting her version of English. It worked like a charm. She lifted and pushed and hooked a foot into the flannel garment and it was disregarded.

He thought about contraception and said "Babies?"

"My two girls at school where they sleep," she said, describing a boarding school. She then said "Sneep, sneep" and moving two fingers like scissors touched her abdomen.

Gee they had sufficient intelligence to deal with any language barrier between them.

"How old are you?" he said, and pointing at her said, 'Numbers?"

She held up three fingers on one hand and then four fingers on her other hand.

"And you?"

He showed her two fingers first and then four fingers.

She said ah si and rolling on to her back and grabbing those four fingers, spread her knees and introduced Kyle's fingers to the thickest bush they'd ever touched.

The groping fingers found a path that led to a moist patch that felt a bit like a spa.

Kyle pushed one finger in, not wishing to hurt her.

"Poof," she muttered and grabbing his hand, twisting his thumb into the middle of his palm she then squeezed his four fingers around his thumb and then pushed that hand into her.

His whole hand!

Kyle gulped and remembered some of those moaning college chicks who reacted as if one wet finger was the size of a fence post.

The woman grabbed his wrist and used that grip to ram in his hand as far as she desired and she unleashed a string of Italian. Kyle guessed she was telling him to squish his fingers about, and when she patted his back with her free hand he guessed that was the same as saying good boy.

Kyle had often thought about fucking his mom but figured if he hit on her she'd grab her shotgun. He now wondered about that. He'd sometimes walked into his parent's bedroom without knocking and his mom had faced him without a stitch on and at least some of those occasions had just smiled and said. "Nice boys knock before walking in on their mom."

Jesus that hadn't been a reprimand and he remembered once when she'd been digging a hole for dead stray cat and it was raining, she'd fallen headfirst into the hole and had yelled to be rescued. His father had said to Kyle it was raining, that Kyle should go.

His mom was in gumboots and couldn't get traction and he sized up the situation, which was something she couldn't do with her head down the hole that was large enough for at least six dead cats. He'd said he'd have to lift her backwards and would need to grip her just under her breasts.

She'd said that was okay and give them a good squeeze if he found that necessary. If he'd found that necessary? Wow she'd not added if that was necessary to extricate her and from what he recalled that wasn't implied either. Shyte. She'd invited him to squeeze her tits while he was at it! Oh and another thing, when they'd gone inside all grubby she'd suggested they share a bath and he's said he'd rather shower. Gawd she probably had meant him to bath with her, not after she was out of there. How could he have been so dumb?

The Italian woman groaned and came over his fingers.

Still puffing on her back she indicated to him to sink his erection. She licked her lips and Kyle looked down on it and couldn't remember it ever being that thick. And it was dripping.

He fell into her right to the hilt and thought he'd only touch her on one side of his dick. But she tightened and he could feel he was in a wet, tight and pulsating glove.

Jesus.

A thin girl of around twenty walked in on then and ignored him and so Kyle kept on plugging away while the two women chatted in a tone as if discussing the weather.

The young woman, rather than a girl, looked at him and spoke in excellent English.

"Madam Bonazzi and I were discussing dinner. I come in to cook. We have settled that but one thing remains unsettled. She asked me not to tell her husband she had sex with a stranger while he was away watching football. I said no I would not tell providing you also have sex with me. My name is Gina."

"Er okay Gina but perhaps after dinner?"

"After dinner will be fine. You will be re-energized."

"What is madam's first name?"

Gina giggled and said, You are fucking her and don't know her name?"

Kyle said stiffly no.

"Her name is Oriana."

"Thank you. Please tell her my name is Kyle."

Gina laughed and said, "You two certainly have your priorities sorted."

Gina had her back to them preparing dinner when Oriana's face turned violet and she clamped hard on Kyle and he bellowed and they both came.

Gina came over with two hand towels and tossed one at Oriana and said to Kyle, "Let me dry it for you. I wish to see what I'll be getting."

"Oh yes Kyle, you are well hung and you might just get that up me anally as well."

Gina left Kyle's bed about 11:30 and as soon as she left the house Oriana took her place. Kyle thought he might have one shot left but before dawn Oriana managed to get him off three times to her multiple releases.

"Goodbye ees a nice boy Kyle," Oriana said, kissing Kyle goodbye as he left to resume his hike. Oriana had given him the names of three sexy women and their locations along his route, indicating they would like a piece of Kyle if they could manage to get Kyle away in private."

He was surprised that Oriana had managed to get such a complex situation across to him with her limited command of English and him having no Italian at all beyond the tourist's few words.

Oriana called to him in perfect English, "Oh Kyle, always remember me as the Italian peasant woman with big tits who couldn't speak much English who entertained herself with sexual gluttony, won't you darling? I hope you haven't gotten me pregnant although it I am and it's a boy Luigi won't mind."

THE END