Author's note: This is for the most part a true story, although the names and location has been changed. The inn is real and is perfect for those out-of-town trysts. In mid-summer, however, the picnic sites have more mosquitoes than is suggested below.
CHAPTER ONE
For several years before we got married, I was on an assignment 500 miles from where my fiancée lived. The nature of my assignment meant I couldn't get away very often so we had to make the best of our infrequent get-togethers which were sometimes three or four months apart. In between was a lot of phone sex and raunchy internet chat but by the time I was due home for a visit we were both bundles of horny hormones.
On one such visit I decided to go first class and booked a long weekend at an upscale country inn. It's a lovely place, centred around a century-old mansion that serves as restaurant, bar and offices for the inn. A number of smaller out-buildings, cottages really, have been added in the same style, with groupings of four to six spacious guest suites in each. The grounds are large, well-kept grass and gardens. There's an outdoor swimming pool and tennis courts and in the surrounding woods are walking trails that lead toward rolling pasture land and forest.
We're to meet at the inn about noon on a warm and sunny Friday in mid-July. It's her birthday, in fact. I'm sitting in the courtyard bar sipping a cold beer when Nancy arrives, gorgeous as usual in a loose-fitting T-shirt and Bermuda shorts.
I'm biased, of course, but I think Nancy is a most beautiful woman. She's about five-foot-six, about 145 pounds. She has long red hair, a dazzling and mischievous smile and sparking blue eyes. She tends to disguise her most striking physical feature – 38-D breasts which barely droop despite their grapefruit size and the fact she turned 38 this day and is a mother to boot. She has smallish, pink nipples which harden to bullets when she's excited.
She lets out a little squeal when she sees me, drops her suitcase and fairly jumps into my arms, smothering me with kisses. My guess would be she's excited although I decide against a nipple check to make sure. We settle, instead, for a long and meaningful French kiss, much to the amusement of half a dozen other people sitting in the courtyard. Finally, her excitement under control, Nancy sits down on the bench beside me. Her face is flushed, eye's sparkling and, as always, there's that great smile.
"I thought you'd be in our room, but when I went to the front desk they said you hadn't checked in yet so I'm surprised to see you here," she says breathlessly. "Gawd I'm glad to see you, I've missed you so much. Why don't we go to our room?"
"Actually I just got here myself, but they told me our room won't be ready for a couple of hours so I didn't bother checking in yet."
Her smile quickly gives way to a frown. It's obvious she's been thinking pretty much what I have – let's get private and let's get naked.
"I have an alternative," I offer. "The restaurant would be happy to make us a picnic lunch and the bartender tells me there are some nature trails and secluded picnic sites out back. So we don't we have a quick drink and go for a walk in the woods?"
Nancy looks hard at me for a moment, then grins. "Secluded, eh. Okay, I'll have what you're having."
I order two more of the inn's own pale ales from the bartender and a picnic lunch to go. Half-an-hour later we've dropped Nancy's suitcase with mine in the lobby, borrowed a wool blanket from housekeeping and are headed hand-in-hand across the broad lawn behind the main mansion toward the woods. We've barely stepped onto the trail when Nancy swings into my arms and we're locked in a passionate embrace. This time I check out all the equipment, my hands sliding down the back of her T-shirt to cup her buttocks, then up underneath the T-shirt to undo her bra. She spins around in my arms so I have access to her newly freed breasts and I discover, as expected, the nipples are fully extended. She turns back towards me and pulls up her T-shirt and I bend to suckle each nipple as she coos and murmurs her delight. I stand up and pull her hard against me, rubbing my stiffening cock against her pelvis. She reaches down and rubs it to full length as we kiss.
"I want you," I say.
"Not right here," she replies, ever the practical girl. "Let's find that secluded picnic site."
Reluctantly we untangle but before we start down the trail she pulls her bra off and stuffs it into the picnic bag. Now I have unfettered access to her beauties as we walk along.
"Don't you ever get tired of playing with them?" she says after we've stopped for maybe the fifth or sixth time so I can fondle her breasts.
"No, actually, I don't."
"Good – and I hope that's always your answer."
By now we've been walking for 15 or 20 minutes and are fairly deep into a forest of 80-foot maples and elms. The trail takes a bend to the left and down a little hill, at the bottom of which is a grassy clearing just perfect for a picnic. So there we stop. We roll the blanket out onto the grass and I'm already trying to get her clothes off.
Practical Nancy pushes me away. "Not here, sweetie, at least not yet. Let's eat first."
Well, I suppose she's right. I settle for a nice long French kiss and another chance to fondle her breasts before we dig into the picnic bag to see what's for lunch. And what we find is surprisingly good – roast chicken sandwiches with lettuce and mayo on fresh whole grain bread, an assortment of fresh cut vegetable slices with a dip, a small wedge of cheddar and a half-bottle of chilled Chardonnay. We munch and sip away in the warm sunshine, well aware of the heightened sexual tension but content, nevertheless, to simply be together.
Lunch over and bottle drained, though, we stretch out on the blanket and begin necking with growing intensity. Before long I have her T-shirt off and one of those large breasts in one hand and the taut nipple of the other in my mouth. We're into heavy breathing now, our passion at a fever pitch. At length Nancy pushes my sweater up and off and then slowly kisses her way down my chest and belly to the button of my walking shorts. She straddles me and then, carefully and slowly, undoes the button and pulls down my zipper. She scoots down to my feet and pulls my shorts over my hips. I've nothing on under my shorts so my swollen cock is now exposed to the sunshine, although not for long.
Nancy leans forward and runs the tip of her tongue up the length of my cock from balls to the head. It was throbbing before, now its tingling and I can scarcely lie still. I feel her tongue swirl around the head, scooping up a droplet of precum. Then she licks back down to my balls. She cradles them gently as she kisses her way the length of my cock again, the final kiss planted right on the tip. And then . . . ohhhhh . . . gawwwwwd . . . she opens her mouth and takes me deep into her throat. The sudden warmth and wetness, no matter how many times I've experienced it, is incredible. My cock jerks involuntarily. Nancy thinks I'm about to cum, so she pulls off.
"Don't you cum yet," she growls, looking at me sternly. "You're not to cum until tonight. I want you thinking about this all through dinner."
Oh shit, it's going to be one of those days.
It's not that Nancy minds cum. She doesn't. She loves to suck me dry, and swallows it all. She'll do it over and over if I ask her to and sometimes even if I don't. But she also loves to tease and seems to relish the notion that the more she teases the bigger the mouthful.
She resumes sucking my cock, not so deep now though, taking me closer and closer to the edge and always stopping the minute she senses I'm there. I'm just about to take matters into my own hand when, not far away, we hear someone calling a friend. There's a mad scramble to get decent before another couple breaks into the clearing.
"Nice day for a picnic, eh," the man says. "Certainly is," we respond, politely. There's a little more chit chat before they move away and we're left with this realization: In these woods secluded doesn't mean deserted. Time to retreat to privacy elsewhere.
