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          OK. So I let slip mention of a

tryst with a Mountain Goat. You people are quick to nail me on these details.

So yes, I did do a member of the goat family, so start making your jokes now...Except the Mountain Goat isn't a

goat at all. And if you didn't know that already, shame on you! I'm not here to

give you another biology lesson. Let's just say that the word goat is only

applied to the animal because of its general looks, and that these sure footed,

white fleeced quadrupeds are extremely curious animals that find living in the

elevated regions of western North America ideal to their physical adaptations.But they are not goats.We can discuss their anatomy and

physiology later if you like.It happened when I was hiking in

the Rockies; where exactly I will not say, for even today the news of what I

did might spark some outrage. As you'll see I did no harm, which is my motto,

but what I did was perhaps slightly unethical. Let's just say that if I had

been a bear or some other predator then the matter would have ended in a much

more grizzly manner.Get it? Grizzly!I'm here all week. The weather was beautiful, and the

mountains even more so. I came equipped for staying out several days, for when

the weather was this nice you took advantage of it. It was midsummer, so there

was no danger of the worst possible climatic disaster; that of a sudden snow

storm, but even a heavy rain while up in the heights of the towering peaks

could prove to be an experience a person would not soon forget.I packed with me a sleeping bag, a small

tent, jerky, several gallons of water, and a few other necessities.  I know it doesn't sound like much, but I

could endure more than I think most people gave me credit for. I made my way

for about six miles, climbing ever higher into the alpine biome until my view

across the valley below was absolutely gorgeous.Way off in the distance, and yet on

the same peak as I myself was standing, I could see a few white specks. To the

untrained eye they might have appeared to be lingering patches of snow, but in

these summer months, in the open crags were I spotted them, they could only be one

thing.I pulled out my binoculars and

zoomed in on the shapes. Even then, from this distance, they were barely discernible,

but their leaps from ledge to ledge proved that my eyes had been correct. I

watched them for a while as they made impossible movements across inaccessible slopes

where even one wrong move would have seen them to their death. I was overjoyed at my luck in being

so close to these animals, but I had come to enjoy more than just staring at

little shapes on the face of the mountain. This time of year there was a plethora

of animal species to enjoy, from the little tufted eared squirrels to the

various eagles, hawks and other raptors that called these mountains home.I found a small open area that didn't

seem to have anything growing that might suffer from my presence, so I set up

my meager camp and relaxed for a while. I wasn't used to the thinner air and my

body was letting me know that it wasn't too happy about all the hiking I had

been doing. I dozed for a bit before coming to. I'm not certain what, if anything

woke me up, but I started with a jerk before getting my head about me.I was feeling better, for carring

all of the water that I thought I would need to the top had been a chore. Now I

wanted to make some food, so I built a small fire pit and went in search of

some dry wood with which to cook my food.Now back in these days, hiking was

a lot less restricted than it is today. The same went for making fires, but I

was wise enough to know how to keep it contained. I had a small folding handsaw

in my pack and armed with this I went in search of some dead wood. I didn't have

to look too far. The real problem was finding something that wouldn't burn like

matchsticks. Up here a lot of the trees were pine, and pine is notoriously fast

when it comes to fire. I need steady heat, not a flash in the pan conflagration.As I was scouring the area for an

oak or other deciduous tree, I heard a mild ruckus to one side. I wasn't

alarmed, but I was cautious. Whatever it was was large enough to alert my senses.

Since I was so high up, that eliminated a lot of potential animals. Horses

could never make the grade to reach this site, and other domestics such as

goats and sheep weren't allowed on this land. It didn't sound like a puma, for

they didn't really make a sound until they jumped you from behind.Squirrels and marmots were out too.

That left only one thing.I made my way around a large

granite outcrop until came to a fairly wide ledge. It was slightly overgrown

with vegetation. Here, a few small trees clung to life by sinking their roots

into the crevices, at the same time helping to collect dust and other organic

material in which to grow. The trees were short and stunted, as befit their environment,

and one of them was sporting a big fleecy coat of white.The animal was struggling against

some unseen foe, and I was cautious as I made my way to where it was. I could

easily see myself getting kicked off the cliff face by this beast in its desire

to be free of whatever was attacking it. That's when I suddenly though of

rattlesnakes. I forgot all about reptiles, though the chances of one being this

high up was as thin as the air.I moved cautiously until I could

see what the problem was. I almost laughed. This was obviously a younger

animal, and one not yet experienced with the variety of hazards its environment

held for it. It had stuck it's head between two parallel branches from

adjoining trees and had forgotten that it had stuck its head in sideways to get

at the vegetation beyond. As matters stood, the thing would perish if it wasn't

extricated from its impromptu prison. Death would either be swift, in the form of

the aforementioned  predator, or else

slow and excruciating by dehydration and starvation. Now, for a lot of you out there,

you're thinking that my choice was simple. I would free the animal and set it

on its way. But a good field biologist doesn't interfere with nature. He or she

observes the world, but in no way seeks to affect it. We alter its course way

too much as it is.I suck at that kind of heartless

science.But......here I had an opportunity. I was

alone on the top of a mountain with a rarely witnessed, completely beautiful

wild animal. I had to at least see what sex it was.That wasn't all that easy, for the

animal was edgy and constantly moving. I didn't blame her, for it turned out to

be a female, but even if all I wanted to do way try and release her, I felt

that the endeavor might result in both of our deaths. True, she was obviously

tired out. I had no idea how long she had been here for this was a fairly

remote spot. However the ledge wasn't all that big, and it certainly didn't have

a railing around for safety purposes.I did have a length of rope with

me, and I used this to secure myself to one of the small trees. I figured that

if nothing else, I'd get a little taste of her before something bad happened. Like

I said, this was the wilderness and life and death happened here all the time.

Sex with human and vice versa; now that was a rarity.The rope I wove under my shoulders,

leaving me able to drop my pants and shorts. I dodged a backwards kick before I

got into position behind her. Trust me; I'm not quite sure why I was even

trying this. I guess my brain said it was an all or nothing event. I either did

it before letting her loose, or I just let her loose and dealt with the

possible regrets.I'm not much of one for regrets.I shoved her forward into the

branches in an effort to stabilize our position. I could tell she was a bit

weak, for an animal her size was normally very strong. I got myself into

position, worked up an erection and a little spit and guided my cock to her

hole. I doubt she had gone through a breeding yet, for that hole was a tight

little bottle neck, and I was the champagne cork. It took me multiple thrusts before

I managed to find my belly against her backend. She had struggled for the first

few moments, but once I had forced her tunnel open, she seemed to resign

herself to her fate. Perhaps she thought of me as a predator, and this was some

sort of strange ritual I did before striking the killing blow.I hooked my fingers into her

flowing white coat and gently worked on loosening her hole up.  I was unfamiliar with their anatomy, outside

of the basics, so I had no idea how big a male might be when it came to the

mating tool. I think that I outranked even the largest of them, so this poor

girl was getting quite the introduction to sex. The term I used; bottleneck;

was a accurate as you could get. If I had pulled out abruptly, I think there

would have been a popping sound.After a good ten minutes she hadn't

lost any tightness, whereas I on the other hand was getting winded and having a

little trouble staying hard enough to continue what I was doing. I was in good

physical shape, but the thinner atmosphere of the upper reaches of the Rockies was

taking its toll on me. Hiking is one thing, but going full tilt on the back of

a mountain goat was another. I could see why even she might have trouble in her

own environment.I focused on the feeling, tuning

out everything else in an attempt to get this over with. True, I could have pulled

out and called it a done deal, but that wasn't my style. I sucked in huge

breathes as rapidly as I could, to the point of making myself even more lightheaded.

But there is something to be said for sexual asphyxiation. The lack of oxygen

suddenly hardened me right back up. I slid back and forth inside that wonderful

beast until I thought my lungs would give out. Thankfully my balls did first.My fingers were tangled in her coat

as I slammed away like a old, horny mountain man. Heck, under these conditions,

I would have done a trapped Sasquatch and would have been completely happy with

it. I drove it home as my cock shot load after load inside her. Then I passed out.When I awoke a few minutes later, I

was on the ground with sharp rocks stabbing my back.The goat still trapped

between the branches of the tree, but her struggles had ceased. I climbed to my

feet, pulled myself together and unfolded my little saw. In two minutes time I

had severed the branch above her horns, freeing her at last.She turned and lowered her head. But

there was no charge or attack; she just looked at me, sizing me up. I pulled

out my canteen and gulped some water, finding my throat to be quite parched from

the exercise and the dry mountain air. I saw her nose working the air as she

smell the water.I could have slapped myself. She must

be thirstier that I was. I found a slight depression in the exposed rock and

poured some in for her. She ignored me and lapped the rock dry, looking for

more.  I figured they as a species

probably got a lot of their water from vegetation, because there wasn't much in

the way of springs or ponds way up here. I emptied my canteen knowing full well

that every drop I gave up shortened my stay on the peak.Still it was the least I could do.

She had tolerated my intrusion into her personal space, and I in return was

giving up my water. There were worse deals struck in the world.I grabbed the branch I had cut,

realizing that some of my weakness was from hunger. A person simply can't go

hiking for hours and not expend a lot of calories doing so. I made my way back

to my camp, giving her a little nod before I went off.She followed me.Seriously. I figured she would have

headed back to her herd, or group, or whatever they were called. But no, she

followed me back to my camp. Please don't ask me why, because I have no idea. I

figured the moment I was out of sight, she'd make a run for it. But no, she

came right up into my camp, lay down and watched me. It was like having a well

heeled sheep dog...with horns.She was spooked by the fire, but

even that didn't drive her away. I gave her more water, figuring it was the

least I could do. If I had to leave early, I would be with the knowledge that I

had inadvertently made it with yet another of the wild animals that roamed this

planet of ours. I cooked a little ramen, which was

quick and easy, not to mention very portable before proceeding to watch the sun

set over the mountains to the west.  This

whole time she never left, though she did get up and wander around from time to

time.As the sun started to dip behind a

line of clouds, I felt a breeze on my face, and I could see billows building

along the ridges. Great! The one thing I didn't want to happen was going to occur

anyways. A rainstorm.I wasn't filled with doom however.

My spot was secure, and with a little innovation, I just might be able to recoup

my lost water. If that were the case, then I didn't have to call off the rest

of my stay. The storm turned out to be much gentler than it first appeared. It

came down heavily at first, tapering off to a moderate rainfall than was easily

coaxed into my jugs using the awning of my tent.The mountain goat; well she didn't

seem to mind the rain. She stood to one side and weathered it like her kind had

been doing for thousands of years. In the morning she was still there,

apparently well hydrated from all of the bountiful water the sky had unleashed on

us. I was feeling a bit damp, but the morning sun was gorgeous and so despite the

copious amounts of moisture I was feeling pretty good.Biting the bullet, I walked over to

the silly beast and rubbed her head. She butted my hand a bit, apparently

enjoying the attention. I can't claim to know what was going through her head,

but it had to be something fairly significant. For all I knew, they treated

humans like they did any other predator. I could find no reason for her

conversion. I guess perhaps that little brain knew that I could have killed her

and that hadn't. That question is ultimately for the philosophers to ponder.So. Did I do her again?Yes. She stayed with me for three

days, and she suffered through my oversized cock in her cunt once each of those

days. It would have been more, but the fact was, I tired way too easily up

here. On the fourth day, I packed my gear and headed pack down into the valley.

I was content, for I had been blessed with something I don't think anyone else

could lay claim too. By day two I had started calling

her Oreo. Why? Well, their scientific genus is Oreamnos. Oreo was a

bastardization of the shortening of that. If you think it's stupid, is sort of

was, but I wasn't going to call her Alice, or Betty or anything normal like

that. Besides, she had plenty of my cream filing inside her.She proved to be quite attached to

me, for whatever her reasons were. I wouldn't think she could have imprinted on

me, not at her age, but the damn thing followed me down the mountain that last

day. I had lost track of her part way down and that was fine, for I hardly

wanted her getting down into the main portion of the park. In fact, in the end

it was me who first noticed her. Several miles down the mountain I came across

one of the rangers heading up. I looked a little rough from several days of not

shaving, and he asked me how long I had been up there.I told him only a few days. We were talking about the storm and

how I had fared in it when his eyes focused behind me. I felt a little terror

creep into my spine, thinking it was a bear or other less friendly creature. I

turned to look and there she was, happy as a clam, tracing my route down the

mountain. She closed the gap in no time, coming under my hand and butting it

with her head.The ranger looked at me, then at

the mountain goat. Then he looked back to me.            "How long did you say you were up there?"