Fiona 3 - the Ripping Good Time

Fiona squeezed her knees together and swivelled on the seat to swing her legs out of Carlo's car. She took his hand to help her stand up and smiled as the breeze ruffled the skirt of her dress and teased her nakedness underneath.

She looked Carlo in the eye. "Have you got the picnic basket?"

He frowned. "I'll get it now." He bustled round to the boot of the car and came back dangling a large wicker basket from his hand. "Is everything we need in here?"

She looked at the basket with the blue fleece picnic blanket folded neatly on the top. In her mind she checked off the contents she'd stowed beneath:

● Two small bowls

● Two small spoons

● Two tall wine glasses

● One punnet of strawberries

● One pot of cream

● One small plastic pot of sugar

● One bottle of prosecco

She licked her lips to try and moisten her dry mouth and thought of the things she'd left at home:

● Beach cover-up

● Knickers

● Bra

● Spare dress

The cover-up stuck in her mind particularly. It might have been useful later on, but she'd made a conscious decision not to bring it. She felt her heart rate spike as the adrenalin kicked in. "Yes," she said, "everything we need is in there."

"Excellent." His face relaxed into a smile.

She saw the smile, but just before it she saw the briefest flash of a frown cross his face. If this adventure was to work properly she needed him relaxed and lost in the moment. She chewed her lip,

time for action.

She spun on her heels to make the dress swirl around and draw his attention. Then she fluttered her eyelashes, took his arm, and turned away towards the trees. With a giggle and a playful tug on his arm she called out, "Let's go this way!"

It was a beautiful warm spring afternoon. The light was soft in the dappled shade under the trees, a stream splashed and gurgled alongside the path and the whole valley was carpeted with bluebells. A well defined path led the way beside the stream, but after a while Fiona took a narrow track which branched off up the valley side. She led the way among clumps of bluebells and between bushes until they came to a wide ledge part way up the slope. She turned to face Carlo and smiled up at him.

He stood close in front of her and slipped his arms around her waist to hold her pelvis tenderly close to his own. He took time to look all round. "This is beautiful," he said.

She followed his eyes as he looked. There was just enough space between the flowers and bushes to spread the picnic rug out flat. Looking over the low undergrowth there was a view down to the main path beside the steam, but lying down they would be out of sight unless somebody ventured up the path they'd just climbed.

Perfect.

She gave Carlo a lingering kiss, and played her tongue between his lips, but as he responded she drew back and fixed him with a big-eyed look from under her eyelashes. "Let's get ourselves set up."

He grinned. "Yes, of course!"

She watched as he spread the blanket out on the ground, smoothing it flat with his hands, and set the basket neatly at one edge; but before he began unpacking the picnic she touched his shoulder. "I'll do this."

She waited until he'd sat down and turned his eyes towards her. She knelt on the blanket, then, easing the skirt of her dress up her thighs a little, stretched her legs out one by one and folded them so she was sat cross legged opposite him. She took care to give him glimpses, up her dress, of her inner thighs and beyond; but nothing too overt just yet. She watched his eyes grow huge like saucers, and his tongue flick back and forth over his lips.

Once settled, she arranged the skirt of the dress demurely over her thighs, but she took care not to pull it down over her knees. With herself all arranged she served up the picnic. First, two bowls of strawberries with cream and sugar, one of which she placed in front of him on the rug.

"Thank you," he said, "that looks fantastic." But his eyes stayed fixed on her, and watched every move she made.

She opened the bottle of prosecco and poured out two glasses. One, she handed to him. The other she held up towards him. "To fun and frolics in the spring sunshine," she said, and drained her glass in one go.

Emboldened by her drink, Fiona picked up her bowl of strawberries. Carlo followed her lead, and picked up his bowl, but his eyes never left her. She felt a fuzzy tingle in her belly.

Confident, now, of Carlo's attention, she selected a large strawberry from the bowl, grasped it delicately between thumb and finger, and lifted it out to examine. It looked magnificently red and juicy. She extended her tongue, licked the berry from bottom to top to collect the cream and sugar, and rolled in her tongue to taste it. She pursed her lips as if about to bestow a kiss and pushed the strawberry slowly through the opening into her mouth. Focussing over Carlo's shoulder she chewed slowly with a smile.

Although she took care not to catch Carlo's eye, she watched in her peripheral vision and saw his unblinking open-mouthed stare. She felt a moist warmth in her groin, and a flutter in her chest; but she managed to maintain the show until her bowl was empty. She licked her fingers, one by one, and looked at Carlo from under her eyelashes. "Well, that was delicious."

He nodded. "Yes," he said, placing his own bowl down, "and that doesn't only apply to eating strawberries."

She looked at him, sitting with his legs out straight in front of him and leaning back against a sapling tree. Holding his eye contact she uncrossed her legs, shuffled over the rug on all fours, and sliding the skirt of the dress up her thighs she swung one knee over him and sat across his lap with her pubis pressed against his groin.

She looked down. Her boobs were more-or-less in his face, his eyes were open wide, and she felt his cock pushing against her through his trousers. She fingered her neckline. "What do you think of this dress?"

"It's quite pretty." He looked her up and down. "Is it new?"

"No." She shook her head. "Quite the opposite actually, it's really old."

"Oh." Using the fingertips of both hands he traced the outline of her nipples through the fabric in front of him. "It's very thin."

Sparks ran from his fingers sending waves of delicious shivers right through her . "Yes," she nodded, catching her breath. "Very thin. In fact, if you tried, you could probably poke your fingers right through it."

He circled her nipples again. "Does that mean it could easily get ripped?"

"Yes. Very easily I think."

He frowned. "But then you couldn't wear it any more. It would be ruined."

She swallowed. "I have no intention of wearing it any more ..." she took a deep breath. "... and actually, I have every intention that in a few moments time it will be absolutely and completely ruined."

He froze, his fingers still on her nipples. His cock bulged under her, and her fanny yawned towards it. They gazed deep into each other's eyes. Their two chests rose and fell together as their breathing somehow synchronised.

Time stood completely still.

He swallowed and licked his lips. "Do you really mean ...?"

"Didn't I promise you a

ripping

good time?"

He caught hold of the flimsy fabric in front of him, right between her boobs, and pulled it taut between his fingers.

She took his hands, placed them at the neck of the dress one each side, and hooked his fingers inside. "Hold it firmly," she whispered, "and tug it hard in opposite directions." She felt his cock bulge again.

He grasped the dress firmly, took a long breath through his nose, and looked into her eyes.

"Yes, Carlo!" she said, perhaps a little too loud. "Yes!"

Carlo lifted his elbows so his forearms were horizontal and pulled hard in opposite directions. The dress burst apart and a delicious long ripping sound echoed out across the valley as he tore it all the way down the front.

Fiona's boobs bounced free in the dappled sunshine and the warm breeze teased her bare shoulders. Her groin clenched, her heart pounded in her chest, and she grabbed Carlo's head to pull him into the most passionate kiss the world had ever known.

He reached behind her and grabbed her bum cheeks one in each hand to pull her tight against his bulging erection. As he pulled his fingers tore holes in the back of the dress and he scrabbled to tear it out from under her before resting her down on the blanket, legs akimbo, between his knees.

She clawed at his trousers, tugging them off him and setting free the biggest erection there has ever been, before grabbing him round the waist and heaving him towards her gaping fanny.

He plunged deep inside her until his balls smacked on her bum, and immediately began thrusting. She bucked her hips to meet each thrust and maximise the pounding her body had been craving all day.

Her climax came in waves, washing over her and squeezing his cock so he came too - releasing spurt after spurt of his heat deep inside her until the pair of them collapsed into smiling jelly in each other's arms.

She sighed, and with a broad smile laid her head back on the ragged remains of her dress; allowing the dappled sunlight shining through the waving branches of the trees to make dancing patterns on her glistening skin.

He propped his head on one elbow beside her and reached for the far edge of the picnic blanket to pull it over and cover her; but she lifted her hand to stop him. "Wait," she said, "I want to remember this moment ... it's quite beautiful."

His chest was heaving, but he smiled down on her. "That was

so

hot!" He chewed his lip. "I don't suppose you've got any more old dresses have you?"

She took a deep breath and smiled at the earnest look on his face . "Well," she said, "it's funny you should ask that."