Charlotte in the Country

By now most of you who might read this know me, at least a little. And you know these stories are real, with the exception of the conversations, which are more how I remember them than real. I mean honestly, who can remember a conversation from last week, much less months and years ago?

This took place in the spring after Paul and I had begun dating. Maybe five months into our relationship. Paul had been looking at farm land out in Goochland country. He was looking for a large barn that he could convert into a set of studios, and still have room to convert into living space. One beautiful May day, he called me all excited. "I found what I want." he said. "I am closing tomorrow morning. I'd like to pick you up and take you there this afternoon." I was so happy for him. He had been looking for the right place since before we met. I agreed, and just before we hung up, he said "Dress up for me. I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Wear your new blue dress. "

We may have only been dating a few months, but I knew what he meant by 'dress up". It meant dress sexy underneath whatever I chose to wear, and that there would be sex tonight after dinner. I smiled at the thought. I feel sexy when I have on nice lingerie underneath and Paul knows it, and plays on it. I took my time getting ready, with a hot bubble bath, carefully shaving myself, lotion and then some time with my hair. I picked my strapless pink corset with the black stripes, and cinched it firm by my waist, then making sure it held my 38C breasts high and firm. As my fingers lightly caressed my smooth belly, I thought a minute and decided to not wear the matching panties.

I picked a light blue and black print dress. It was one that he had bought me and I never that buttoned down and tall set of black high heels. I liked the dress, but it's not as well made as most things I own and I hadn't warn it yet. But when I put it on, I had to admit he had picked well. It flowed nicely over my hips and with the corset on, showed off my waist and cleavage nicely. I looked in the mirror and smiled. I may not look like anything special in a pair of jeans and sweatshirt. If you saw me in the grocery store, you probably wouldn't look twice at me, but I do the glamour thing good. And when I take the time to get ready like that, it's almost like foreplay. I find I am already half excited before Paul ever rings the doorbell.

He picked me up about 2 and we drove out to Goochland. I know the way now, but that first day, I felt lost as he took one country road after another. We came to a place where a narrow gravel road peeled off into the woods and he turned there and took us down a long gravel road until we came to a clearing. There, on the other side of the clearing, was a big red barn. He let me out of the car and we walked hand in hand as he explained what he wanted to do with the place. He took me through the lower area, showed me where the studio would go, what would be storage and then took me upstairs and with his hands, pointed out where he visualized various rooms being. His excitement was contagious. and even though I am a suburban girl through and through, I began to see it.

As we came out the large center doorway, we stopped and looked around. "And besides," he said. "This is a place where we can make one of your fantasies come true."

"Oh?" I said. We had talked about many fantasies and I wasn't sure which one he might mean. But just the thought had my pulse running a little faster. I already knew Paul had a penchant for dramatically indulging my crazy ideas. "Which one?"

"Look up." He said.

I looked up and there was a structure coming out of the barn above the door. I had noticed it when we went in, but didn't know what it was. It was made of two by fours, and you could have hung a sign on it, but it was solid enough you could have hung something much heavier on it. There was a chain hanging from it, a couple of feet or more above my head with some kind of shackle on the end. Suddenly I got it.

I looked back at him just as he was pulling out our cloth handcuffs from his jacket pocket. We had used them now and then to tie me to a bed and he knew how I loved the feeling of helplessness. My pulse sped up yet again. I was breathing heavy and he had not even touched me yet. I held out my arms.

He clamped me in the cuffs. I found I could hardly breath. The excitement was that thick. He lifted my arms up and quickly shackled the cuffs to the chain. My arms were held up high above my head. I was not hanging there, but I had no room to take even a step without being off balance and hanging. He kissed me long and slow, his hands circling my waist. I was barely in balance and could only respond with my lips. I kissed him hungrily as he pulled me closer, his hand now in the small of my back. I could feel his cock hard against my belly.

He stepped back and began walking around me, his hands sliding across my chest, over my should, to my upper back. His touch was electric. I felt his fingers slide over my back collar, then touch the back of my neck. I felt so aware of everything, his hand. My breath, the warmth of the sun. I can even remember the sounds of the birds and the soft wind that blew in my hair.

Then he grasped my collar and yanked hard.

The dress just came apart, Buttons popped. Seams came loose and in that one yank, The dress was off and in his hands and I was exposed in my corset and heels, arms tied high above my head. I remember crying out.

Then he was close again, tossing the dress aside. his hands now on me. He stayed behind me and reached around to the front of the corset. I looked down, and I watched his fingers, slowly, one by one, began to undo the small black hooks one the front of the corset. I was like slow motion, watching the corset, strain with each new hook being undone, my breasts starting to flow over the corset top with each new hook. My nipples pushed and shifted against the fabric as it shifted, so sensitive I felt I was going to cry out. I felt I was in a movie, like it was not happening to me, only I could feel the sensation. Finally he undid enough and my breasts spilled out.

I could feel the warm sun on them. I watched them, pale and white. The pink nipples hard and swollen. as still standing behind me, his hands cupped my breasts. I watched as his fingers moved slowly and took my nipples between them. I couldn't help it. I moaned at the touch. I was still teetering, but he held me close. I could feel his hardness against my ass. In normal lovemaking, If a man takes enough time to tenderly love my nipples, I can come from that alone. Like this, helpless and so excited before we even began, I was helpless. Just moments after he touched me, I came, crying out again, louder.

"Go on." he whispered. "No one can hear you. Cry out all you want."

He fingers began to move lower again, undoing one hook, then another. He had to shift to my side, to get to the lower ones. I watched, feeling like the heroine in some odd combination of romance movie and porn flick, feeling more and more exposed with each hook that sprang loose. I remember trembling as the corset fell off to the ground. I remember feeling the wind against my skin, cool in contrast to the heat of the May sun, and Paul's warm hand.

And now one of those hands moved lower, caressing my smooth, freshly shaved lower belly, until it slipped between my legs.

I know I was wet. I could feel myself dripping down my thighs even before he touched me. And when he slid his finger in, I remember whimpering. I kept whimpering as he stroked my clit, slow and firm. I remember saying "Paul. I am going to come again." It was almost a whimper, like a small child. But I felt that helpless and that excited.

Paul shifted again, facing me. I watched him unzip his pants and pull his cock, that beautiful swollen shaft, straight and hard, He moved close and shifted and guided it to me. He had to bend his legs a little because he is taller than me. The he pushed it in.

Oh that feeling, that sudden filling. I cried out. I remember hearing the echo in the clearing. And then he spread his legs slightly, his hands on my ass. His cock in me and began to grind. He was full in me. He felt huge. I could feel an orgasm building, A big one, fast and hard. I was helpless, teetering on my high heels, each of his thrusts, when they had all of him in me, lifting me for just a moment, then dropping me back to the ground. I tried to hold it back, I really did, but I could not help myself. IT finally washed over me, an orgasm that was not localized at all, but somehow seemed to rack my whole body. I was lost in it, overwhelmed, physically and emotionally. I sagged, hanging now from the cuffs and chains above my head.

Paul was so gentle. He undid the clasp and gently lowered my arms and undid the cuffs. I leaned hard against him and he led me back to the car. I was shaking still from emotion and spent excitement. He just held me in the back seat until I came to myself. I remember saying, softly, "Thank you." He just held me.

I began to recover. He got out and got my corset and dress. He helped me get back in the corset, and cinched me back in it. Then I held up the tatters that had been my dress. "I can't go out in this." I said.

He laughed. "I had the blue one made by a place that makes theatrical clothes. It was designed to be torn off."

"My own bodice ripping." I said. He laughed again. "I have a real dress for you in the trunk."

"Not yet." I said. "You haven't come yet."

"I'm fine." he said. "This was for you."

"No," I said. "I want to do something for you."

We got out of the car. But instead of getting back in, I led him to the back, where he could lean against the trunk. I slipped to my knees. I knew my cleavage was fully visible. I unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. It was still half hard, red in the late afternoon sun. . I let my fingernails, freshly manicured the day before, caress his balls, the sack swollen and shaved. I began to kiss it,. Lick it. I love the taste of him, love the smell of his cock, and the feel of it, hard as a shaft, yet velvety smooth. I've never gotten over the sense of my generation that giving head is terribly naught, and here I was in the middle of a field, bares assed, on my knees, loving his cock, showing off so he could watch every bit of it, alternately looking up at him and looking back down to his cock.

For a while he just let me, but slowly he began to respond, to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out between my lips. Slow at first, the slowly harder and harder. Finally I stopped and let him just fuck my face, pumping, pumping until he moaned a low grown and I tasted his sperm, hot and salty in my mouth. I let his slip out. I kissed his cock head. I wiped a small drop of come off my chin that had spilled out.

Paul pulled me close and kissed me,. His tongue probing deep. We kissed like that a long time before we separated. I could feel the warm sun on my shoulders and still naked ass.

Finally though, we separated. He opened the trunk and there was one of my more modest dresses on a hanger, carefully folded in the trunk. He helped me on with it.

And yes, we did go out to dinner and I don't think I have ever smiled as much at a restaurant, knowing my little secret of the afternoon, and wondering to myself, what people there would have thought if they knew how we had spent the afternoon!

Charlotte