Wanton You

Our fantasies, reminiscences, and experiences.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Nature Hike

It was unusually warm for January in Kentucky. Alison was wearing a pink sweater over a white tank top, but after a few minutes of walking she took the sweater off and tied it around her waist. We were hiking in a state park, climbing up a bluff overlooking rolling farmland. We passed several people during our ascent.

We had been dating only a couple of months at this point, so we had trouble keeping our hands off each other. We stopped at a park bench and began kissing. I was seated partially behind her, leaning over her right shoulder to kiss her, with my arms gripped around her middle. Glancing quickly to make sure no one was watching, I began tracing lines under her tank top. When I reached the bottom curve of her breast, she protested playfully but did not push my hand away.

I continued to kiss her and my hands became bolder, grasping the undersides of her breasts more firmly through the fabric of her bra. My thumb brushed against a nipple, and she shuddered involuntarily, her body slumping against mine. I turned her more toward me and began kissing her more urgently, my hands now kneading her breasts.

Alison came up for air and looked around nervously. There was no one in sight, but anyone could come walking down the path at any minute. I tried to resume making out with her, but she resisted, gesturing toward the path. I relented, and we cuddled for a couple of minutes before getting up.

We were now fairly high up on a gently sloping, grassy hill. Down at the base of the hill, several hundred yards below us, was the parking lot and then farmland, before the land rose up to the next bluff. Smirking mischievously, I grabbed Alison's hand and pulled her off the path toward a tree a few hundred feet from the path. There was nothing but grass between the tree and the path, but the ground was depressed such that the tree was not visible from the park or the parking lot.

Alison protested but didn't resist as I led her over to the tree and then tackled her playfully, pulling her onto the grass and attacking her mouth with my own. My hands began to roam over her body, feeling her curves that are soft in all the right places. I pulled her body close to mine, wrapping my arms around her middle as I continued to kiss her.

My hand began to explore lower down her body, until it reached the waist of her jeans. When I began sneaking my hand inside her pants, she looked around nervously, afraid someone would see us. I relented, contenting myself with kissing her and exploring her gorgeous body through her clothes. But as she continued to get more excited, I again began to brush my fingers under her pants, and her protests subsided.

Soon my hand was all the way in her pants, my fingers brushing lightly against her mound. She became completely distracted, her kissing becoming less urgent as her mind wandered toward the growing emptiness between her legs. Her legs drifted apart involuntarily as my finger dipped inside her panties to find moisture between her legs.

I brushed her clit for a few minutes, eliciting little gasps and moans. As I touched her, she became less inhibited, more needy, spreading her legs and rocking her pelvis up toward me, urging me to touch her more. I unzipped her jeans for better access and began to dip one finger inside of her.

Unfortunately, her jeans were too tight for me to give her a proper finger fucking. So after a couple of minutes I grasped the sides of her jeans with my free hands and began working it down her hips. She looked terrified that someone would come along and see her with her pants around her ankles. I assured her that I'd only slide them down a few inches--just enough to give her soaking pussy the relief it needed. If we heard anyone coming, I told her, she could quickly pull them back up and act like nothing had happened.

She relented, and I pulled her pants down a few more inches, allowing me to slip a finger all the way inside of her. She moaned and bucked her pussy in response, losing herself in the sensations between her legs. She clutched me and rocked her hips in time with my fingers' thrusts.

Yet her pants still got in the way. I could reach all the way inside of her now, but I had to hold my hand at an unnatural angle to manage it. After a few minutes, my wrist began to cramp up and my finger slowed.

She whined and thrust her pussy toward me, demanding that I finish the job. She could no longer bear the exquisite torture of my cramped caresses, and she wanted to come good and hard around my fingers, and nothing but a good hard, unobstructed finger-fucking would get the job done. Not caring who saw, she reached down and pushed her pants down to her ankles. Her knees flew apart and she arched her pussy toward me. I was happy to comply. Shifting my body for the best leverage, I began thrusting two fingers deep inside her. In about thirty seconds, her body was convulsing around my fingers. As wave after wave of pleasure washed over her body, she twisted sideways to grab onto my arm.

I lay down beside her, and she lay in my arms for a couple of minutes, her pants down by her ankles. Soon modesty reasserted herself and--a little bit sheepishly--she pulled her pants back on. She then lay in the grass with a gloriously contended expression on her face, luxuriating in sunlight and endorphins.


Blogger Al Sensu said...

I just love this story.

10:38 PM, October 14, 2006  

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