His fingers probed deeply, and he brought his thumb down to circle against her clit. Her sigh of complete pleasure delighted him. His yet free hand slipped beneath her, cupping the curves of her behind, kneading and stroking. His fingers, wet from her juices, tentatively moved down between her cheeks to brush across the tight hole there, pressing gently as if asking permission to continue. He watched her face. She shivered in excitement, smiled at him and moved against his finger to encourage him. He pressed further, sliding through her anal ring and as deeply into her as his long fingers would reach. He moved with gentle strokes against the soft tissue, watching her face for her lead. She wasn’t shy about telling him what to do. ‘More, baby, give me more,’ she whispered to him, and he slid another finger within her. The minutes passed, and he loved each one, responding to her direction, seeing her wiggle under his touch, knowing what he did to her. It excited him, and the more he. “Yeah.”We layered up again. I buried the remnants of our fire and we laced up our backpacks. I broke out my ropes and led the way back up to the ridge path. It would have been a difficult scramble, but it was relatively straightforward climb. We made it up in two pitches.“You climb as well,” she said, as I recoiled my ropes and stowed them in my pack.“I climbed with Dad ever since I can remember. I climb like I ski – it doesn’t look pretty, but I get the job done.”She led the way up to the Mount Washington summit. The overnight snow was deep and both of us were grateful for our snowshoes. It was slow going and it was mid-afternoon by the time we summited. The weather was only slightly better than the previous day. The famous winds atop of America’s windiest point were still in evidence, but at least it wasn’t sleeting. We took a couple of quick pictures before heading down the other side.It was a relatively short descent to the Lake of the Cloud hut in the saddle below. We made a.
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