Sliding in your shoulder brushes my bare shoulder, your heat almost burns my skin; but it is what I need and with a sigh, I relax. My fate is happening you are here. You lean over and give me a chaste kiss. As you do, your left hand takes possession of my bare leg just below my shorts. You sit back in the seat, doing up your seatbelt not releasing my leg. "Open your legs wider, wider." As if in a trance, the same trance I go into whenever I have chatted or talked with since we first met, I open my legs. "Good, let's go, I have to catch my flight back here at 9:00 PM.
Speak up Misty, if you want me to stop this at any point even now but unless you say the word until the moment I step out of this car tonight you are mine, understand. Remember the word you have chosen is Navajo." You watch me, judging my reaction. I only nod, just once and turn the key. You pull your hand off my leg; it feels cold now, I am bereft.
The drive out to the old farm is via a major highway for the first half hour. We talk inanely about your flight, the weather, my car, and the traffic avoiding any more personal or serious subjects. Even though, you are being the perfect gentleman, I can still feel where your hand was on my leg. All the way, I can feel you assessing my attributes. I can feel your eyes scanning me up and down, taking into account everything, judging it against your memory bank of our conversations. I am in a constant state of blush and I don't blush. We pull off the highway onto the country roads, you reach over and just for a moment touch my bare leg then it is gone and you are back to being the gentleman, polite, and solicitous. My leg burns from your touch; I feel my body responding to your touch. My labia open like the wings of a butterfly. I must really concentrate on my driving. Maybe I shouldn't have told you that we are nearly there. "Here we are", I say as we crest the hill, I flip on the right hand signal light and slow; remembering that the lane was rough the last time I was here I slow to almost a stop before I ease off the road. Still the front-end crunches all the way down on the shocks 'Ouch'.
You chuckle "Women drivers."
"I was raised here on this farm. The bush is back there, a forest of mainly deciduous trees that is about likely about 20 acres. It was been burnt out about half century ago, so there is only a few of the old growth trees, still scarred; however there is lots of newer growth. It has really grown back. When I was a kid it used to be pastured with yearling cattle, so the undergrowth was kept to a minimum. The farm is gone now; soon it will be turned into yet another subdivision. It was a great place for a girl to go to loose herself." It just bubbles out of me."
I look over at he, seeking your approval. "This is my most special and private place. The best place I could think of to start our real relationship. I so want you to come and take this walk with me." It is a glorious summer afternoon. We drive back through the fields on the rough rutted farm lane parking under the canopy of the large hickory tree. Getting out of the car, we each walk back towards the truck of the car, suddenly silent. We smile over the roof at each other. Our arms ache to have our first real hug; our mouths hunger for the first taste of each other. The peck on the check at the airport doesn't count nor does your touches during our drive here. As if a matched pair as we clear the car our hands reach out to each other, we cannot wait another second to be in each other's arms. You are stronger and you stop as soon as our fingers touch and you wench me in with your fingers and arms until I am standing nose to chest with you. A shiver runs through me as your arms encircle me. 'Oh how I have dreamt of and ached for just this single moment, a moment that can never happen again, but will be replayed in my head forever. It is happening. I lift my head, our eyes meet and hold; our world captured in that gaze. As your head lowers and I tip mine back to meet your lips, we watch the other's reaction. Will it be as good for the other, as we know it will be for us? The touch... 'Oh, the touch', as if electrocuted I arc into you, my arms come up under yours, encircling your broad back, not quite touching, my fingers wide spread trying to touch all of you. Your lips gentle now, growing with urgency, with need, 'yes, yes, you are everything I knew you would be'. I moan softly and relax in your arms as your tongue explores my lips, tracing their opening, pushing into my teeth, 'ah oh yes' and my lips and teeth open to meet their master. You open me wider with your tongue or did I open wide to you. I relish in your exploration of my mouth. Your hands, big hands, strong hands, grab my short clad ass and squeeze and lift; lift me up into you, my pubic mount touches your growing cock. 'Heaven!' My tongue enters your mouth for the first time, your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the backs of your teeth; your supple tongue dances with mine. We stand locked in each other at the mouth and the pubis. Time stands still, in the warm sun, birds and crickets our orchestra. 'Will it be right here you take me? No, no, this is too ordinary!' I scream in my head.
I guess you feel the tension in me for you let me down patting my ass; you pull away. You reach into the trunk and get my backpack and help me into the harness. Then you heft yours out and put it on. Laughingly we help each other adjust the backpack straps. I want to know what you have in yours. Babbling I tell you everything that is in mine, "I brought a white wine in an insulated cooler, 2 glasses, a variety of breads and cheeses and fruits and." I end up laughing at the explosion of words that spill out of me. "What is in yours, Master D?" You stubbornly refrain from disclosing what you are carrying beyond the obvious, a thick blue and green plaid blanket that is peeking out. You lean close and give me a quick peck on the cheek and a tight hug. It is kind of awkward with our big pack-backs. You take my hand.
We walk hand in hand through the tall tangle of mixed grasses, timothy and Lucerne predominately that fight for growing rights with the rampant weeds, chicory, burdock, golden rod and ragweed. This used to be a well-maintained farm lane, though only a mud track the cows kept it well trimmed. It was the cow paddies you needed to watch out for, ugh. I tell he about the trees, each one of a childhood friend; about gathering the hickory nuts to make fudge; the big oak tree that from the top you can see all the way to town, gathering the acorns for our pet squirrel and craft making. I stop for a moment, under my oak looking up into its canopy lost, yearning to recapture the past, to climb, climb up higher and higher, leaving the problems of the world behind. As if you know I need this moment, you stand back and watch me transform back into the little farm girl. My feet never leave the ground but the weight of the world has lessened when my gaze comes back to you. I reach out for your hand and smile, relaxed, totally relaxed and one with you and nature. You lean close and whisper, "You are mine." And we walk on.
There is my perch; my reading and dreaming rock, a large rock about seat height, two feet by three feet and reasonably flat, it must weigh tons. It sits beside a big post that used to make a stable backrest, but now when jump on it and lean back against it, it is wobbly, in fact it feels like it will give way. You reach out and grab my hand steadying me. "I used to escape to my rock with my books and my dreams, to sit in the afternoon sun when the farm work allowed it". It is certainly big enough for the two of us to rest on it in the sun. Our packs dropped on our respective sides and as one we turn towards each other, hungry for each other's kiss, to taste each other. Yet our kiss starts out gentle, tentative, lovingly. We hold the back of our partner's head as if we are afraid that the other may bolt or is it that we want the other even closer. Our lips exploring, the sexual tension building between us as it does our mouths open and your tongue does an exploratory search into my mouth, into my recess. Your hands go to my shoulders and you push down. I am not sure what you want. You are pushing me off the rock. You have my mouth captured as I slide to the ground at your feet. Your tongue dances with mine, then moves on to circle my mouth, taking ownership of mouth. You form suction with your lips and suck my tongue deep into your mouth, not that I am an unwilling participant. I return the favor, hungry for your taste, the feel of your mouth. Our hunger feeds our hands and they rove all over the other's bodies, touching, exploring, and seeking out those erroneous zones. We both stop and look at each other, laughing knowing that if we don't move we won't move and that we need to cool down.
"You belong at my feet, Misty." I have learned a valuable lesson I am to be at your feet not beside you. I blush; the realization that this is no longer play hits me, this is real and you expect me to be the same as I am in cyber.
You stand and lift me off the ground giving me a lingering hug. You reach down and heft my backpack put it on my back, turn me around and do it up for me across my chest and hips. I am anxious, no need to show you the rest of my private place. "Here is where my hole in the fence into the bush used to be, now the whole fence is gone, guess it has been a few years, huh." We walk unimpeded into the bush.
"It is now much denser than it was when I was a kid." The farm lane through the woods now has trees thirty feet high creating a leaf canopy. It is almost too thick to walk through here easily, we must step over, duck down under and stop and untangle ourselves from the blackberry briars that are everywhere. Every time one of us stumbles, the other reaches out; at the touch we cannot resist the temptation to kiss, to hold, and to explore the other. You possess my breasts at each stop, feeling, pinching and twisting first one then the other. It makes for a slow journey, but time has lost all meaning. There is only you and I and nature at her finest on this bright summer day.