A lost hiker indulges in some fantasizing and self pleasure in Maine’s Acadia National Park
© Johncleland1748
. . .
It was late afternoon before a chagrined Emily finally admitted to herself that she was lost. After all, she was an experienced hiker, and it wasn’t like this was her first visit to Acadia. She had set out that morning from the Blackwoods Campground near Otter Creek, on what was supposed to have been easy, two-hour walk to Eagle Lake. But one wrong trail had led to another, and now, nearly eight hours later, she found herself completely turned around, and she was getting nervous.
If she didn’t find a viable path out of the forest soon, she would have to spend the night here, and she did not relish that prospect. For one thing, she hadn’t brought her camping gear, as she had expected to be home long before sunset. For another, she had heard all sorts of ominous stories about strange things that supposedly happened deep in the wilds of Acadia. Locals reported seeing strange lights, hearing spooky voices on the breeze, even having to flee from weird creatures that stalked through the trees by the light of the moon.
Emily was not a superstitious person; she did not believe in ghosts, goblins, or other supernatural boogeymen, and had camped by herself plenty of times. But there were other, more mundane dangers that one could encounter in the woods, and she preferred not to have to face down a bear or a serial killer if she could help it.
Emily used her bandana to wipe the sweat from her brow. Even for August, it was uncharacteristically hot in Maine, and the perspiration streamed down in between her ample breasts and darkened the front of her shirt. Her cheeks were flushed. Her feet felt as if they were roasting inside her hiking boots. Fortunately she had brought enough drinking water, but what she really craved was a dip in the nearby stream.
She knew she should press on until she spotted a familiar landmark, but the water looked so refreshing, and the idea of continuing to stumble aimlessly through the forest made her want to scream in frustration.
I’ll just stop for five minutes and wet my feet, she thought. Five minutes, and then I’ll keep heading north until I hit Eagle Lake or the Canadian border, whichever comes first.
As soon as her sore feet touched the water, Emily let out an audible groan of relief. The stream felt better than she ever could have imagined. The current was crisp, but not too cold; lively, but not too strong. Its gentle splashing and babbling was seductive, like a lover’s whisper. Emily sighed and lay back on the carpet of pine needles strewn along the bank. Her eyes closed as she luxuriated in the sensations of cool water, soft ground, and soothing shade. Despite her fatigue and concern about her situation, Emily relaxed and let her thoughts wander.
Within a few seconds, she realized exactly where her thoughts had begun to wander, and she smiled wryly. Here she was, lost in a forest as the day turned to night, and instead of thinking about how she was going to extract herself from a potentially perilous situation, she immediately started thinking about sex. Even for a self-confessed horndog like she was, fantasies about rough fucking were inappropriate under the circumstances. She shook her head in an attempt to dispel the lewd images that paraded through her mind.
Okay, she thought, enough of that. Time to focus on getting out of here. She drew a deep breath and prepared to sit up.
But there was something about that pine grove by the water’s edge that eroded her resolve and kept her lying where she was. She faced no imminent threat, she reasoned. Plus, the idea of tromping for god knew how many miles was unappealing to say the least; the notion of resting here in this little oasis was far more pleasant. Besides, once she started thinking about sex, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else until she had gotten off once or twice. Her decision made, she lay back once more and let her mind drift.
Her left hand crept downward to the waistband of her shorts as she imagined another hiker discovering her stretched out on the ground. He was nobody in particular, just a man with strong hands and lust in his eyes. He wouldn’t say a word, he would just crouch next to her and begin removing her clothes. She would lift her hips so he could slide her shorts and panties down past her ankles and position himself between her spread legs. He would unzip his fly and take out his cock, already rock hard in anticipation of being buried inside her.
Emily’s hand was stuffed deep inside her underwear. She was shocked at how wet she was. She ran her fingers on either side of her clit and gasped in pleasure. With her other hand she pushed up her sweat-soaked t-shirt and pulled her sports bra down so that her 36Ds popped out. She pinched one of her fat, erect nipples, which made her moan.
In her fantasy, the stranger pushed her thighs apart with calloused hands and shoved his cock into her waiting pussy. Her fingernails raked his back. She hooked her muscular legs around his and drew him deeper into her. His hips slammed against her faster and faster as his hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze. It was just what Emily needed to put her over the edge. She thrashed and clawed at the ground.
Emily’s right hand applied pressure to her own throat as her orgasm crested. The fingers of her left hand plunged in and out of her sopping hole, making squelching noises as she fucked herself. She grunted and convulsed, her body taut as a fiddle string before she exhaled with a whoosh and collapsed back into the pine needles. Her chest heaved, and the smell of her arousal was thick in the evening air.
As her breathing returned to normal, Emily took stock of her condition and concluded that she was a mess. She was bathed in sweat and covered in dirt from head to toe. She was also hungry, and the thought of the sandwich in her backpack made her stomach rumble. But before she did anything else, she needed a bath. She rose to her feet, brushed away twigs and pine needles, and stripped off her damp clothes. With the moon full and bright above her, she eased her tired, naked body into the stream.
* * *
To be continued…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bu0g1z/et_in_acadia_ego_ch_01_f_mf_masturbation