The old man had gone behind the shed to get his axe. It was wet, a dreary day in the northern wilderness of the Queen Charlotte Islands of British Columbia. Girls fucked early in these parts, and boys were men much sooner than their couterparts in other places. It was a wilderness where people lived from off the land, where winters usually were long and wet when people kept much to themselves in tiny wooden shacks along the coast.

He was splitting wood and cussing as he did so. He cussed it seemed in normal converstation, making little sense at times but voicing his opinion all the same. My grandmother was in the kitchen frying eggs and cooking bacon on the top of the old cast iron wood stove. It was how they heated, cooked, and it made the little cabin as cozy as a home could ever be.

I was intrigued by how these people lived, a different way of life from anything that I might ever have ever imagined, and I thought about my mother. She had been raised right here, in this environment, in this very place where I was standing. The shack and the surroundings had probably not changed too much at all. It was primarily a fishing village, but in the winter when the seas were rough the villagers would often spend their time cutting down the enormous cedar trees and making shakes for roofs on modern houses in Vancouver. A supply ship would arrive each month bringing the occasional passengers back and forth, and taking the shakes and fish back to the mainland.

It was a simple life, the way they lived, the way they ate, the converstations that they had; but not at all the way that I was used to in Seattle. I missed my boyfriend. I wished that John might be here with me, to see this godforsaken landscape as I did through my own eyes, the bald eagles soaring in the sky above the coastline, their nests in trees way up above us, the smell of smoke permeating the air from nearby cabins all along the coast, the freshest air my lungs had ever encountered.

It was new, an experience I had never before encountered, my first time; my whole soul responding to the effect of what was happening to me, even arousing my sexual appetite, as if to consumate the whole experience within me, the arousal more than I had ever felt before! I couldn't even phone him. He was somewhere on the East Coast visiting family with his folks. I was masturbating now more often than I had ever done before.
I was hot and I was horny. I was wanting to get back to him as quickly as I could!

The second day had passed. I was walking into the small village to just to get away from the cabin, already tired of only talking to my grandmother and listening to the bickering that often occurred between her and the old man.

He was coarse, perhaps in his early fifties. His hair was long, though he was freshly shaven. He was muscular and broad across the shoulders with very little hair upon his chest, a little running down below his navel and then disappearing in the shorts. His stature seemed as perfect as man that I had seen.

I said hello. He called me over, asked me who I was and who I stayed with?

I told him. He asked if I would like a beer. I told him no, that I was going to the store. He was older, so much older than myself but I found myself aroused as I kept looking at the pubic hairs that started on his belly and wondered what he looked like as he stood bare naked in the shower?

The curious onlookers first stared as I came by. A couple introduced themselves. A young girl, perhaps no older than my little sister came waddling in behind me, obviously in the later stages of her pregnancy. I wondered how old she was, how old she might have been the first time she was fucked? I thought about the life I had at home, the pleasant things, the fact that I had been able to finish high school just the month before and already had a contract with a modelling agency in Seattle doing mostly swimsuits and womens underwear for Sears. I was fifteen the first time I had sex. He was the father of the kids I used to babysit, and drove me home. I was lucky that he didn't get me pregnant!

I came back. Marco was still there, still working on his boat. I sat there with him as we talked. He invited me into the cabin where he lived when he was fishing, a bed, a simple stove, that's all there was. I admit that it aroused a baser instinct.

I then walked home toward the cabin, somewhat pleased that he had been there as wicked thoughts of cheating crossed my mind, though he was coarse and somewhat crude, though I still liked him.

I thought of him that night as I was naked, lying in the warm bed of the cabin, thinking of the first time that I had been with someone. He was older, so much older than myself and as girl I was mesmorized by him, the way he spoke to me, the way he looked at me, the attention that he gave. He rubbed my thigh, as though an innocent gesture, that first time that he drove me home. I didn't stop him. It was the second time he took me home that it occured. A vacant Safeway parking lot. He rubbed my thigh. Like lovers we had snuggled up, his finger in the love canal, no words at all were spoken as he laid me back upon the seat and kissed me as his cock went in.

The act itself was dangerous at best. The occurence only happened just the once. My attraction for older men was consumated on the front seat of his pickup truck, his penis spewing into me without protection as he promised he'd take care of me if I got pregnant!

I walked back to where Marco had the boat the following morning. The boat was gone and so was Marco. I wondered if I'd see him again? Somewhat disappointed I went back to the cabin, and helped my grandfather split wood and set some traps that afternoon. The following day I went fishing in my grandfathers small dinghy, and got to catch some fish. My grandfather was more excited than I was. My thoughts however were mostly about John, my boyfriend who was still on the East Coast, imagining our first time back together fucking anxiously in the small shed at the back of their property in suburban Seattle, sucking his cock in his mothers Honda off the highway going into town, or showering together at my folks house, playing with each other until both us were so horny we would be standing in the narrow shower stall and anxously fucking each others brains out.

It was too much for me! I wanted to go home! Two days later I walked back to the village. The boat was there tied up against the dock. Marcos was in the cabin. I went inside and sat on the bed as he was sorting through some charts on the table. He kept working. The bed was uncomfortable to sit on, so I became more comfortable, putting my feet up on the bed as kept talking. He asked me if I'd like a beer. I said okay. He said that he would be going out again tomorrow, that he'd had trouble with the engine the day before and that was he came back in, to get it fixed. He was going out again tomorrow for three weeks. It would be the last time I would see him. I had another beer. A while later he said he needed to take a piss and then went out and stood behind the cabin on the deck and took his cock out. It was right outside the cabin window and it was quite obvious he didn't mind if I might see it. It was long, a good three inches longer than my boyfriends. I wondered what it might look like with an erection?

He came back in, still doing up his fly. He said he'd like to fuck me, and I smiled, thinking he was being stupid, hoping for a moment that he wasn't. He started the engine, checking how it was running, then took the mooring lines off and pulled the boat out into the small harbor. I stood beside him at the wheel. His arm was round me as we stood there. It was the first time that he had touched me. I then sat on the small pedestal and steered the boat out in the harbour toward a point several miles distant as he gave direction.

“You have nice tits,” he suddenly said, as he stood there looking down into my blouse.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Haven't seen nice tits like that since I was young.”

We stopped the boat. He put the anchor out. I lay again upon the narrow bed as he began to fix a tether on the stern.

He came back in. I was watching him, admiring his physical appearance and smiled as he walked in. He took a blanket from a chair and gave it to me. Somehow I knew exactly what he wanted. I covered myself and then removed my blouse, watching him, not taking my eyes from him as I then removed my bra. I took it from beneath the covers and then put it on the floor. He didn't move nor make a sign, as if he gave approval and watched as then I lifted up my butt and took off the remainder of my clothing, my panties and my shorts now on the floor beside my bra.

I now watched as he undid his shorts, then took them off. He wasn't wearing underwear as I'd expected. His cock was stiff, as long as I had ever seen a cock before! He took the blanket off then knelt between my open legs. His cock caressed the bush of hair between my thighs, the knob of it now seeking for the entrance.

I gasped! The thickness of his male flesh went in me! I'd never had a cock go so far in! He fucked me like he hadn't had a fuck in years, my orgasm already apparent as he started giving pleasure. I had never had a fuck this good before, nor been so ready for a man to take advantage!

He fucked me several times that afternoon and evening, and by sunset I had cum more times that I had ever known possible!

We went back in. No kisses were exchanged as we departed. I had asked if he could wait a few more days before he left. He said he couldn't, that the fishing grounds were open and he was already two days late and needed to get started.