I watched the sweet, slow, sway of her hips as she moved through the "jungle" of vines, laughing to myself . This "Yankee girl" wasn't any 18-year-old virgin. In fact, while I detected some apprehension, I knew that she knew she was putting on quite a show for me, and determined to teach her a very sweet lesson in seduction… Southern style.
As we passed under a canopy of honeysuckle, I caught her wrist and stopped her progress for a moment.
Deliberately, I plucked a fresh sweet blossom from the vine and gently extracted the pistil and stamens from the bloom. A glistening drop of nectar clung to the base and I pressed it gently to her lips. "Taste the aphrodisiac of the south, Renee," I whispered.
Her lips had hardly touched the drop when her eyes softened, the lids becoming full and heavy. As the moisture touched her tongue, her breath seemed to stop. With eyes closed, she savored the sweetness of the flower. "I can see why you call it an aphrodisiac" she moaned softly, moving into the embrace of my arms.
A gentle breeze stirred the air around us and the scent of aroused female mingled with the heavy scent of honeysuckle. As she turned her face up and pressed her warm lips eagerly to mine, I could feel the tautness of her breasts against my chest. Her nipples stiff and straining against the soft cloth of her bra and blouse increased my arousal until it was full and obvious beneath the denim of my jeans.
Determined not to lose control, I gently pushed her away and set the picnic basket and blanket I was carrying on the soft leafy ground. It didn't calm the arousal, but I was able to regain some control as I spread the soft cloth under the overhanging foliage. This woman at this moment was my ultimate fantasy, and I wanted nothing to break the spell. Renee was as palpable in my mind as the mixed scent of her need and the cloying honeysuckle were in my olfactory senses. I knew that at the moment, she wanted me as much as I wanted her, but a fine wine only improves with the patience of aging.
Once the blanket was spread, I relaxed and stretched out on my back on the soft cloth. I left her to open the picnic basket and spread the food out. (I have to admit I was thinking of some scenes from the movie "Tom Jones," which today would be rather mild, but back then were VERY sensuous.) At that point, I began to wonder about my age and the difference between us. Little did I know that Renee had also enjoyed those scenes, recognizing the subtle innuendo of the "feast" scenes as a prelude to a sexual orgy.
Without warning, I found Renee stretched out on top of my supine body, with a warm and inviting smile. Her mood was infectious, and while the basket lay unopened, we began to roll and tease each other in the shade of our leafy bower.
I lost all sense of time as we played in the soft grass, kissing and teasing each until I found myself on top of her, arms pinned above her head, and her firm breasts suddenly thrusting up at me. The smile on her face changed from challenge to desire and as I lowered my lips to hers, I felt the surrender in her body.
Her legs spread and her pelvis rocked up against me in obvious need. As her thighs locked over my hips, I looked into the softness of her eyes and realized I had never seen such a beautiful shade of blue. "Love is Blue," a long ago tune by Claudine Auget, came to mind, and I knew at that moment why it had been one of my favorite songs. If ever in my life I had observed love in someone's eyes, it was at this very moment.
The tension between us had become so strong that as I began to undo the buttons on her blouse, her breath caught with each. Slowly I bared the soft white flesh of her breast. Beneath the plain white blouse, she wore a sheer bra through which the hard pink nipples thrust up beneath my gaze. I wondered why she bothered with such support, because there was no sag to them, and at the moment it was just an impediment to my warm lips.
I kissed slowly down the side of her cheek, neck and gently down to the displayed cleavage. As her breathing deepened, I stopped long enough to remove my shirt, baring my chest in anticipation of feeling her flesh against me. I felt the light touch of her fingernails against my nipples and down across my stomach and shivers ran down my spine.
Gradually, I moved her blouse down until it fell off her arms. Deliberately, I planted warm kisses on her nipples through the bra until I could stand it no longer, and released those lovely breasts into the warmth of my mouth. With each breath she took, I felt them swell and strain upward. The nipples were distended now, and her back arched to push them more fully into my welcoming warmth.
My hands worked down her back and lifted her to meet the tickling caress of my tongue. Her breasts seemed made to fit my eager ministrations. I have never been attracted to huge breasted women, and Renee fit my ideal without a second thought. I could take most of one into my mouth at one time, enjoying the feel of the stiff nipple rolling against my tongue, while I gently massaged the other with my free hand.