Into The Bush Pt 03

In Parts One and Two, I introduce Paula to my farm by taking her on a walk, aiming to show her the patch of bush on it. We come to the pond and the pond meadow, then the bush track leads us to some small meadows just prior to the zigzag track up the hill. Paula hands me her panties as we start up the steep narrow track.

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As you climb ahead of me, and as I fall behind a little more, I can see right up your skirt at your nakedness. Each of your steps hides then reveals your delicious inner thighs, the beginning swell of your buttocks, the shape of your pussy between your legs.

"Stop. No, don't turn round. Just bend forward a little. Hold it there. Now just spread your feet apart a little more. A little more. Yes, that's right. Don't move. Just stay like that a little longer. That's right. Good girl."

I pause, then ask, "Who are you, Paula?"

"I am your Hole, Master. Can you see enough? Do you want me to bend over a little more?"

"Yes, I do. And use your hands to open your hole for me."

My cock is now straining against my underpants. Half of you is in bright sunlight, half of you is in shade. We are in the midst of a sea of green. The sky overhead is blue. I drink in the intense visual delights of you in this environment.

"Good girl, Paula. Let's get going again."

You take your hands away from your pussy, stand up and continue the climb. I readjust my cock in my jeans and follow you, unable to remove my eyes from your thighs and the flashes of other flesh that tease and delight me.

Finally, after two more stops along the way, when I require you to bend over and open up to me, to my penetrating gaze, we reach the top of the Zigzag Track.

We have come in a large semi-circle, skirting the edge of the Bush since we first encountered it at the end of the Pond Meadow just before the entrance to the Bush Track.

You wonder if I intend to take you into the Bush at any point, or if I am avoiding it. Or maybe, in the same manner as I make love to you, maybe I am enjoying a slow dance around the edge of things, circling and subtly probing before moving closer to the centre.

As we pause at the top of the Zigzag Track, I pull your panties out of my pocket. I kneel before you and tell you to lift up your right foot. You reach down and place a hand on my shoulder to steady yourself. The hem of your shortened skirt, initially at the level of my nose, now rides up on your thighs. I can smell your body. I imagine I can hear the movement of its juices.

I put one leg of your panties over your still sandaled foot and hold it there at your ankle, turning my gaze upwards, along the line of your leg from calf to knee to thigh to cunt. I raise your foot a little higher, spreading your legs more, exposing more of your slit, loosening the outer lips through which the now-swollen folds of your inner lips protrude.

I raise your foot still further, and I see the outer lips open, bringing with them the inner lips, revealing the inside lip walls, moist, red, the threshold to your vagina, my hole.

I place your raised foot on my knee to give you better balance, and I raise my hand to run one finger from your perineum, just in front of your anus, up past the mouth of your vagina to your clitoris. I watch your clit twitch and your whole inner lips contact at my touch.

Saliva has flooded my mouth. I swallow and lick my lips, slowly.

I then place your right foot on the ground and raise your left so that I might complete the introduction of your panties to the journey up your legs past your knees to your groin and butt. I smooth them over both of your buttocks with a slightly tremoring hand as I get off my knees and stand beside you.

Just a couple of metres away, to the right, is a narrow pathway that has been pushed through bracken into the Bush. I take your hand and lead you towards the dark entranceway ahead. In the midst of the bracken, I look back at you, your face flushed, your long fine hair covering half of it and falling across your upper body, your skirt high up on your graceful legs, a hint of perspiration at your neck, and your breasts heaving from the exertion of the climb and the arousal of my touch and of my visual penetration of you.

In a few short steps we journey from bright sunlight to darkness. We pause at the threshold of the Bush, waiting for our eyes to adjust. As we do so, we see that we are on a ledge a few metres above a large bowl of massive trees. The slope in front of us, dotted with ferns and small bushes, drops away steeply, and we have to negotiate it.

"Take off your skirt, Paula."

You don't question what I ask of you. You take it off and give it to me. You stand in the welcome cool shadows, bare legged and pink pantied, a yellow tee shirt outlining the contours of your upper body, and you wait for my lead.

With your skirt in one hand, I take a couple of paces downwards, bracing my feet on some fern roots. I hold out my hand to you and fasten my eyes on your pantied pussy as you step down to me, relying on me to prevent you from sliding uncontrolled down the slope.

I hold you to me for a moment while you find stable footing, then I take another couple of paces downwards before drawing you after me once again. For me there is an exquisite alternation of visual eroticism and physical stimulation as I watch your panties come to me and as I hold your body close.

In this manner, we make our way to the bottom of the bowl, and gaze around us.

It feels like we are in the heart of a great woods. The ground rises behind, in front and to the left of us, and it is hard to believe that open pasture is only a few metres away in those directions. To the right, the ground falls away, all the way down to the Bush Track that we so recently walked and the Manuka stream beyond, both invisible behind a wall of trees and bushes.

At our feet is soft cool earth upon which is a carpet of dry brown leaves and small dead twigs. The floor of the bowl also contains scattered patches of ferns and small bushes and twisting vines which reach all the way up to the canopy above. We prepare to push on.