Chapter 1: Forest Encounter

My name is Fotios and I am visiting England in the hope of meeting women like those Jim Priest writes about encountering. I’ve asked him how to find them, but he tells me that most are very dangerous and didn’t want to feel responsible if I got hurt. Personally I think he’s just trying to keep them all to himself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in my forties, handsome and in good shape through regularly playing soccer and working out but the women I meet of my age don’t appeal to me. I’d prefer strong older mature women like Jim describes, however I’ve never met any back home. After a few weeks in London I was beginning to think maybe they were all just figments of his fantasy. Feeling low and needing a break, I hired a car and left the hustle and bustle of the crowded capital to explore the English countryside.

To cut a long story short, I ended up in Sandringham country park in Norfolk walking through the forest, enjoying the fresh air on a mildly warm day. Suddenly a mature lady, with white-gold blonde hair in a pink tracksuit top and tight cropped black leggings that came down just beneath the knees, jogged across my field of view on the main path which the track I was on met a short distance ahead. I got a brief side view of a fairly tall sturdily built woman of around 5 foot 8, probably in her 70’s, of fierce countenance with a thick mane of shoulder length curled fine hair almost resembling candyfloss in the sunlight. For a moment I imagined this was the fierce dangerous older royal woman that Jim wrote about but then dismissed that as a wild flight of my imagination and continued up the slight incline to the path junction.

As I arrived there, the mature jogger was a fair distance down the path. My heart leapt into my mouth at the sight of huge flaring powerful calves on the old dear. Even from a distance they looked fricking massive although she wore trainers, no doubt pumped up from her exercise. Full and shapely like upturned bowling pins, a deep cliff edge ran along the bottom of each steel-hard looking calve muscle notched with a deep heart shaped cleft. I even saw strong tendons along the sides of her lower legs as she pounded away from me. I just stood there in amazement watching the sexiest most muscular well-developed calves I’d seen in my life, let alone possessed by an old woman, flexing and waning in a spectacular dance of raw feminine power. My manhood was achingly stiff and getting stiffer with every step she made. Transfixed I saw large defined downward double arrowheads with clear separation between chunky muscle heads, glistening with good tone and perspiration making them shine in a very sexy manner as they powered the old lady into the distance. By the time I had come to my senses and decided to follow, she was just a rapidly dwindling figure in the distance. Boy she was moving! No stranger to exercise I set off at a fast jog after her but soon had to admit defeat as I lost sight of her completely as she powered off among the trees.

Feeling deflated I decided to call it a day and made my way back to the main car park. Back at the car, I decided to have a coffee and quick snack in the visitor centre before going to find a hotel. It was a week day, out of tourist season and nearing the end of the day, so I expected to drink my Mocha and eat a cream scone in peace and quiet among the old retired folk I could see through the windows. Unfortunately there were two young men talking very loudly in rough accents and being rather raucous, clearing annoying the customers. I sat down and tried to ignore them, thinking that the staff would sort them out. However it became clear that the young women serving behind the counter were too timid to interfere. “Quieten it down lads” I speak up as no-one else seems willing. “Ooh effing Nazi telling us what to do””Heil Hitler” They go into a racist rant. “I am not German” I tell them but they are having too much fun talking loudly and acting like yobs. Suddenly a woman sitting a few tables away with a shoulder-length bob of thick whitish-blonde hair spoke in a husky low-toned loud clear authoritative posh voice. “Clearly your parents and teachers failed to educate you to show consideration for others and speak quietly when in public” she berated “But if you don’t shut the noise I will come over there and you will regret it”. For a moment the lads said nothing, clearly bristling to be publicly reprimanded by a posh old granny, their slow-thinking brains working to think up a witty come-back. “Keep your hair on Mrs. Featherstone” one finally exclaimed starting the loud insults and laughter at a new target.

I had seen the old British comedy about a shopkeeper on a re-run channel at hotels I had stayed at. I hadn’t found it mildly amusing, aimed at a much older generation, but had kept it on in the background as there was nothing better on. However I remembered the name and recalled the large well-built old woman with the scary face who dressed all in black and thought she was some kind of cougar. Sitting with her back to me several tables away, I could only see an emerald green jacket with broad shoulders covering a well-built frame. The lads continued being loud and obnoxious when the woman began to rise. “All children should have a volume control and mute switch installed at birth” she stated. As she got to her feet I saw a black dress patterned with red roses hanging below the jacket. From the way that she dressed and spoke it was clear that she was well-to-do and sturdy, around 5 foot 8, with a plump but undoubtedly feminine figure. My view of the rest of her was obscured by tables. One of the yobs spotted her approaching and nudged the other, they looked up together. I couldn’t see what they saw but they seemed frightened but tried not to show it, trying to act cool and cocky but visibly spooked.

“Sit down you old bag” one said with bravado but then jumped to his feet looking uneasy as she reached their table. As she turned to address them I caught her upper side profile and noticed a large low hanging bosom. Her chin and neck were loose and jowly while a deep chin, large prominent nose and wide mouth glossed with scarlet lipstick dominated her face. That mane of hair covered her ears from which ornate silver and pearl earrings hung. “Push off grandma” the yob said aggressively, his hands darting forwards to push her away.

To everyone’s astonishment the old woman swiftly threw up an arm to block his. “What, seriously?” he scoffed. The next instant her other arm flashed towards his head, the edge of a long aged hand swiftly chopping the side of his neck solidly. The lad’s body jerked violently with his eyes flying wide in surprise. As fast as lightning the well-built lady’s arm flew forwards with fist clenched. A solid loud thud like tenderising meat was heard as her fist drove deep into the pit of his stomach. His torso instantly snapped forwards 90 degrees, creased over sharply with eyes tight and mouth wide open in shock. Grabbing the back of his head she pulled it sharply down as a black-nylon clad knee shot upwards trailing a large shapely meaty calve, streaking like an express train on an unavoidable collision course. A terrible crunch as her knee pounded his face sending it jerking upwards trailing a bloody nose. Without pause she bent back his wrist, soliciting a shriek of pain, as his arm was twisted inward then raised forcing him to his toes. Looking magnificent and in complete control I got a glimpse of a stern wrinkled-faced old woman as she swivelled around. Swinging her arms forwards and down, the lad’s body was compelled to jerk into the air in a very fast forward roll before his back crashed loudly against the floor. He didn’t even have time to breathe as the remarkable wrinkly planted a heeled foot on top of the side of his head in an extremely dominant manner that stiffened my groin. Bending back his wrist she pulled his captive arm vertically straight following the line at the front of her dress between her legs then buried his bent hand against her crotch to subdue him.

This all took place incredibly quick in a blink and you’d missed it moment. By the time the other lad had risen from his seat he found himself facing the broad back of the woman with his mate lying on the floor before her in agony. In the heat of the moment he grabbed an arm from behind. Her other arm pistoned back driving the point of her elbow deep into his gut. He also folded over like a creased playing card. The elderly lady clenched her hands together and brought them down sharply onto the back of his bowed neck driving him towards the floor. A fast moving shoe rose fast towards his face. The hard impact jolted him almost upright again sporting a bloodied nose to match his mate. Seizing his right wrist, she forced the arm into the air then brought it smartly down across an outstretched arm, hooked it over then folded a thick solid looking forearm to trap it. Snapping on a wicked wrist-lock that bent his hand back sharply at the wrist, she folded his arm into a small agonising bundle which she forced back towards her own shoulder. Transferring his wrist, she held him captive with just one arm, forcing him into a high crouch with his knees bent and his head level with her bust, writhing in agony. She looked totally dominant as, with one youth already subdued using a single arm on one side, the woman reached down to snatch the other lad’s wrist from her crotch then forced him to his feet while wrapping his arm up into a similar bundle of pain.

In a matter of seconds a frumpy old lady had totally subdued and incapacitated two rowdy young men who were now semi-crouching and whimpering with their eyes tightly clenched in agony upon either side. The other customers and staff break the stunned silence by bursting into noisy appreciative applause. She had their arms so firmly locked up in tight bundles against her bust they looked like they would snap like twigs. “Ow ow you’ll break my effing arm” one whined. “Oh do stop whingeing or I will” the fearsome woman growled in a clear husky voice that sent shivers down my dick. Forcing both onto their toes she kept them in that humiliating position, parading them around for everyone to see, as if she were the huntress and they her trophy catches. With my penchant for strong dominant older women was it any surprise that I found myself with a massive hard-on. The way she effortlessly disposed of them in what was probably less than a minute was utterly arousing.

It’s at this point as she basked in victory that I got my first full look at her wizened face. Her thick near-white blonde hair sat in a puffed up bob hugging the sides of a wide high-cheeked face, covering her ears while a soft feathered fringe swept across the forehead and down to her eyebrows which were covered on one side. The years had taken their toll with an olive-toned complexion lending a bit of colour to skin that otherwise looked dry and weather-beaten. There were lots of little lines around her mouth on a hard-worn creased face alleviated only by a subtle pink gloss lipstick, loose foundation powder and a slick of mascara. Her jacket showed off a trim waist while a V-shaped neck hinted at a very deep cleavage. I also noted how pleats in the black dress swirled around thick legs as she moved. Hard blue eyes stare out in an uncompromising glare from her craggy features. “Are you tough enough?” she snarled “I don’t think so” she added in dismissal. For a moment I thought she was addressing me and felt ice-cold dread accompanying a strong lurch inside the front of my trousers. I was so taken aback by her hard fierce look, it was only when she turned away that I swore I knew who she was.

With the young men flanking her on either side on tip-toes writhing in agony in a steely double armlock, the mature woman marched them into the main aisle at the edge of the dining area and towards the main doors. It was only then that I got full sight of the back of her legs and was blown away by the sheer size and power of her calves as they bulged and flexed in wonderful indescribable ways. There was no doubt these remarkable calves belonged to the same woman I saw jogging earlier. Only now raised up on high heels and glistening with the sheen of sheer black nylon they looked much larger, muscular and sharper defined. The sight of seams running straight up the middle had me practically drooling at my table. Yes, I had a hard-on of epic proportions that felt as if it would rip right through my trousers. As I watched those huge slabs of defined, rippling double-headed downward pointing erotic muscle disappear from sight, I knew that I just had see more of this remarkable fierce old woman. My erection was so stiff that it would not go down anytime soon and by then the old battle-axe and her amazing calves would be long gone. Covering my trouser-tent as best I could with the map I had been using earlier, I rose and weaved my way between the tables on course towards the doors to give chase.

It was only as I left the building and began to look around to try and find which way she had gone, did I give any thought to how the old lady would react to find a man following her with a noticeable erection! Judging by how she handled those young men just for being loud and obnoxious, she might think I was out to sexually assault her and put me in hospital! Spotting her walking away down the path at the side of the visitor centre with her writhing captives towards the main car park, I discreetly followed the senior citizen that had turned me on so much, the best I could sporting a very stiff boner that had barely begun to subside. She walked briskly, not slowed in the slightest by her protesting unwilling companions. I picked up the pace so as not to lose her as I had earlier. With a determined unyielding stride she forced the two lads across the car park and into the forest beyond. Unable to spot her once I’d reached the trees I feared that I’d lost her when a rustle in distant shrubbery signalled the way. Cautiously I entered a narrow track and silently crept along until I could hear sounds close-by. Coming to a large bush I carefully peeled back the leaves to reveal a small glade.

Keeping myself hidden I watched the scary-faced woman standing with the captive yobs. Suddenly she looked in my direction as if she heard something. I ducked back and kept still, not daring to breathe, with my heart pounding in my ears. After several agonising seconds, squeals of pain indicate it’s safe to peek again. Unfolding their arms the elderly sophisticated lady raised them up in the air on either side of her body, high above her head. Her jacket fell open to reveal a low-cut black dress revealing a lot of cleavage and buxom chest. They had barely let out a squeal of protest when she whipped their arms in a very fast forwards circular motion. With her big bust heaving, two large heavy balls of womanhood lurched upwards in the V neck of her dress to such an extent that I half-expected them to break free. The lads’ bodies lurched into the air with the mature woman standing in the middle. Spinning over incredibly fast their backs slammed into the ground with audible force, their breath noisy hissing through their mouths. My word, how can a man handle a woman like that? My dick regained it’s former stiffness in appreciation.