The Wall 21

The Wall

We walk up the steep slope, breath rasping in our throats as the autumn sun shines down weakly. Ahead of us the wall looms-two thousand years old and yet still formidable with dressed blocks of stone defying the elements and running like a ribbon across the undulating landscape.

At last we reach it and I run my fingers along the cold granite blocks then climb up nimbly, scaling the ten feet before I turn and help you up. The wind catches us and your skirt whips around your legs while we look for miles and see nothing but sheep dotted around in the fields on either side like cotton wool tufts. I pull you closer to me and turn you so that you are nearest to the chill wind and then I raise your skirt hem up further and further until the cold bites into your thighs and bottom. I can feel you shiver as I hold you tightly against my chest and I kiss you softly, smearing lips together before my tongue slips inside and entwines with yours, sharing secrets of taste and smell.

"On your knees, bottom into the wind," I say as I break from the embrace and you quickly obey. I pull the long skirt up over your hips and reveal your black lace panties which I swiftly tug down to bare your glorious globes. I sit astride you as if I was riding a horse backwards like a trick artiste in the circus and I start to spank you. The sound echoes off the rock and a sweet pinkness appears as your flesh is smacked. I make it hard and fast as I try to warm your skin, fighting against the biting chill of the wind and I hear you groan and then gasp as the stinging sensation rides through you.

Two minutes is enough and then you are allowed to rise and we walk along the wide top of the wall, following the ups and downs of the contoured hills and fells as we hold hands. We reach the first milepost, a little shelter for the poor soldiers who once stood here on guard against the Picts, and I make you stand, leaning backwards against a holly tree that is clinging precariously to the stonework, facing me so that I can undo the clasp on your front opening brassiere and roll your top up so that the wind can touch you there. Your arms reach high up the trunk and into the lower branches and I watch your soft eyes become obscured as I roll the top up above your neck and over your face. Again I fight the cold for you, spanking the heavy flesh of your breasts and watching them turn pink then red as your gasps are muffled by the material of your top. I bend forward and suck one into my mouth hard, leaving a red love bite mark on the tender surface as if I was wearing lipstick. Many marks later, I suckle in your nipple while my fingers tease the other one, rolling it then stroking it then squeezing it to elicit a little shy gasp of pain before I step away.

I let you dress yourself again while I scour the sheltered ground behind a tiny tower of stone and I find what I am looking for-old holly leaves, yellowed with age. Your brown eyes crease a little as you see them in my hand and you swallow nervously as I reach out and begin to insert them into the cups of your brassiere now that you have replaced it. The sharp spines tease you now as we walk along and your breasts swing and move, pricking themselves on the tiny points and I can see the little twinges of pain ripple in your eyes. We walk down into a dip in the landscape and I make you lift your skirt again and I pull down your panties so that you can feel the cold on your clit and pussy lips and then I bring out the leaves I have saved and you gasp as I place them in your knickers and pull them back up tightly. Your walking now is slower and I can feel you clench my hand tighter as a spiny point bites into your delicate labia or inner thigh. The next mile along the top of the wall provides us with breath-taking views of the countryside but I wonder if your breath is being taken by the darting lances of agony that strike you irregularly.

The next milepost is more substantial and I take you inside and you sigh with relief as I allow you to pick the leaves from your panties after you have taken them off. One has been pricking into your pussy lips and I can see the tell-tale traces of your glistening juice on it and I make you lick it clean. I position you standing, hands supporting your weight as you lean forward and I remove your skirt before I part your thighs with my hands and run them up into your waiting pussy. Two fingers slide in easily, sucked into your questing quim, parting the pink pussy folds and moving in and out as you sigh and sink further, raising your bottom for me to view the tightness of your anal pucker. I pull out a conker from my pocket, one of several I picked up off the ground earlier, and place the shiny rich brown seed against your aperture and press. Slowly your ring accepts the small conker and it disappears inside your bottom hole while my fingers slide gently in and out as you rhythmically push your hips forward and back in time. A larger conker presses inside you and your sphincter opens wider and then comes a third as I add another finger inside you as your pussy becomes so wet and willing, warm and welcoming that I cannot resist bending down and kissing the edges of your labia lightly while my fingers work up and down inside you.

I bring out the biggest conker, an impressive champion and I roll it around your spreading ring, feeling the warmth of your hole coat the hard surface before it begins to open you. My tongue traces a slow path up your perineum and I press my lips against the conker and force it forward, inhaling the most intimate scent of your body deep in my nostrils as it pops inside and vanishes into the darkness. I give you one soft kiss right on the puckered brownness of your bud and then I stand and remove my fingers so that I can free my cock and allow it the pleasure of your pussy. I press my hand down on the centre of your back and you bend a little more and I place my slick glans at your wet entrance and wait. The waiting is so hard as I want to plunge inside you and my cock jerks and throbs with desire as it feels the damp warmth of your slippery lips around it.

A soft please comes from your mouth and is almost lost in the stonework so I give you a sharp slap on the bottom and wait. I know that you flush with embarrassment at asking and I encourage you by smacking you hard for a minute, ignoring your little moans and cries. The request that follows is louder and I ease in an inch, gripped by your tight walls, before I spank you again, hard slaps on the outside of your buttocks and thighs. You ask again and I meld further with your soul, sliding my length in another inch before the spanking resumes. I can feel the glowing heat on your skin now and so I drive in hard when you ask for a third time and I feel my whole shaft clenched by your spongy membranes,

I slither in and out of your squelchy, slippery quim, fast and hard then slow and gentle as I feel your body build towards your pleasure. I toy with your clit, stroking around it and then across then rolling it between two fingers before my thumb rubs it harder as I impale you fully time and time again as your moans rise and your flesh shakes and jerks beneath me. My excitement rises, flowing up to match yours as you come in a crescendo of quivering, clenching flesh that sucks out my seed in great waves and I gasp out my love for you into the chill air.

Recovery takes time and I feel myself slowly wilt and then slip out of your slipperiness and I hold my hand there, waiting for you to expel my slimy seed. A minute passes slowly and then I feel the first trickle and then comes a steady stream of frothy whiteness that I rub into your buttocks and inner thighs, coating them with my glistening love before we walk back.

Do your thighs slide together as we stroll along, hand in hand? Do your buttocks oscillate more coated with my slippery seed? Does your pussy leak more of my love? The answers are written in your soft brown eyes.