The next day was another typical English April day, damp and still cold so there weren't many people about. I head towards the cafe and, walking around the corner of the building, I see her sitting on a bench about 50 metres ahead. The instant she spotted me she stood and walked away, following the path bordering the lake. I followed.
And as I followed I thought about how this strange relationship was developing. Non-verbal communication, so far. Quick sex, so far. No contact except for the sex, so far. No names, so far. Once I'd thought it through, it was quite a simple game really. And one I decided I was quite happy to play.
And so I just followed her, keeping that 50m gap, to wherever she wanted to go.
The trail followed the edge of the lake and then branched off into the woods, it was quite wet underfoot but, after something like 10 minutes walking, the path turned into a wooden walkway, with waist high handrails on both sides, that weaved through the trees about two feet above the ground. After a further 5 minutes the bends began to get closer together until you couldn't see more than 3 metres in either direction. Seemed a good spot to admire the scenery.
And she clearly thought the same, I step around the next bend and there she is, leaning back against the railing with her hands in her jacket pockets, feet slightly spread, her eyes fixed on me. She watches me approach with those sparkling eyes and that familiar lopsided smile. I stop centimetres from her, right in her space, she doesn't flinch, her expression doesn't change. I lean in, kiss her.
I explore her face with my lips, put one hand on her thigh the other on the railing, start to scratch and rub at the front of her jeans, the tops of her legs, lower tummy and between her thighs. We stop kissing but stand with our foreheads together she with both hands now gripping my shoulders.
I concentrate more and more between her thighs, the drag of my nails creating quite a vibration through the denim, sometimes drawing a line from between her thighs right up the front and over her clit, other times just short little scratches over her pussy. Sometimes just one nail slowly dragging other times three or four fingers strumming quickly back and forth.
A few minutes of this and I begin to see and feel the effect it is having on her: her head drops onto my shoulder, her grip on my shoulders increases and she is struggling to support her own weight: I'm having to hold her against the railing. A few seconds more and she loses it all together: legs collapse and begin to shake, thighs squeeze together, her nails dig into my shoulders pulling me against her and she groans at the back of her throat.
It takes her quite a few minutes to even begin to get her senses back, but once she can keep her feet I step back a little and undo the belt and button on her jeans, tug the zip down.
Taking hold of her hips I spin her around so that she is facing the railing and her back is towards me, she still isn't quite sure what's happening but it begins to register when I drag her jeans and knickers down to the tops of her boots.
Her bum is round and firm, tinged pink from the cold air. I grab a buttock in each hand, squeeze them. Groan aloud, want to push my face between them; no time.
I nudge her forward so that her hips came up against the railing. She grabs the railing with both hands and looks back at me, I pause for the briefest of moments and lock eyes, she bites her bottom lip, looks down.
Unfastening my own jeans I push them and my boxers down, my released cock bumps against her arse. I take hold of it and rub the head up and down the crack of her arse, my hot skin against her now cold bum, push it between her thighs, rubbing across the slight scratch of her pubic hair and the hot wet lips of her pussy, press it against her, pull it back out, push back in, she squeezes her thighs around me, traps me against her sex, I drag it back out, her thighs and my cock getting slick with her juices.
I bend my knees, angle upwards, guide it with my hand, a slight adjustment, search for her entrance, push up parting her lips, push further.
And that was the first time I heard her utter anything whilst in my company and it was just a simple, soft "Oooooh," as I enter her body.
I grip her hips, push myself into her, centimetre by centimetre. She bends forward a little, made the angle easier, halfway in and I pause, pull nearly all the way out. Then back in, a bit further each time. She's tight: her jeans are only just below her knees; and that tightness, coupled with the squeeze from her thighs and the scratch of her pubic hair all added to the intensity of the sensations flickering through my groin.
And then there's all the other stimulus: being outside, the cold air, a new fuck, the possibility of being caught! And the look of her bent over the railing, her arse getting redder and redder as my hips smack into them, even her hands gripping the railing.
This was turning into an outstanding fuck!
And that's what I was doing, fucking her! Long strokes, cock nearly popping out to balls slapping against her thighs, then if I felt the sensations becoming too much I slowed right down and ground against her ass; change the angle and rub my cock against the walls of her pussy then, when I felt back in control, back to long strokes, sometimes fast sometimes slow.
Trouble was, those times of feeling in control were getting shorter and shorter. The tightness of her pussy didn't help but, all that other stimulus, all heightened the excitement.
But I need not have worried, she was getting close too, very close. Her own pushing back was getting more frantic, she was reaching back trying to get hold of me, really gripping the railing with the other hand. A hand that I suddenly saw bore a wedding ring! Wow, she was married! That certainly explained some things. Not that I was going to think about it at this particular moment.
And it was time, I was pounding into her, hips really slapping against her, cock thrusting in and out. Her head was down, she'd got hold of my jacket and was repeatedly pulling me against her, urging me on.
She cried out, her pussy turned to liquid, her legs started shaking again. And that was me: I came, I came like I've rarely cum before: my rhythm completely gone, knees buckling, my balls and arse tingling, gasping for air. I could feel it pulsing down my cock, each uncertain thrust against her ass pumped another jet into her pussy until there was no more.
And that's how we stood for at least a couple of minutes, breathless, shaking, her bent over the railing, me bent over her with my cock buried up to the hilt in her dripping pussy.
And just at the point where we began to get ourselves together, that's when we heard it, through the fog of sex, the unmistakable sound of women's voices and the drum of a babies pushchair wheels across the wood of the walkway, and they were close.
Stepping apart. Frantic pulling up of knickers and boxers and jeans, tucking everything in, trying to fasten belts, stepping one way then the next, trying not to laugh.
And we just made it, but only just, almost but not quite caught, and they must have guessed, they looked like they'd guessed as I passed them; she'd set off in the opposite direction whilst I had decided that the two of us together wouldn't have been what she would have wanted, and would have been far too obvious. I still looked pretty dishevelled but at least I wasn't still bent over her gorgeous round ass with my cock buried to my hips inside her hot, tight, wet pussy.
-------------------------
I got to the first bench and decided that I couldn't just leave it like that. I got my phone out and found her number, selected text:
"You ok?" a pause and I imagined her trying to decide whether or not to ignore it.